


Specter's Bargain

by Recourse



Series: Book and Candle [4]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Dark Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Witches, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Magical Drug Use, Mental Illness, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: Chloe Price is desperate to bring Rachel Amber back from the dead. She's traveled across the world, through the ruins of Arcadia and Blackwell, and found herself at the estate of the Oracle Chase, trying to find a way to bring back the girl she loved. What she doesn't expect is to find both her childhood best friend and an old enemy from Blackwell waiting for her there, told to stop her. As Max, Chloe, and Victoria all try to unravel the mystery of the destruction of Arcadia, traveling back through Chloe's past to find answers, the real question starts to become clear:Is bringing Rachel back the right choice?Sequel to "A Chronic Desire" and "Presumed Lost" and the series conclusion of "Book and Candle."





	1. Fooled Into A War

Chloe stares at the small rod in her hand as she walks a slow circular pattern.

It swivels on her palm, always pointing its sharp end towards the same spot. So she’s reached it, she’s here.

Fuck, now what?

She follows the dowsing rod’s direction, internal voices rising in volume. _Do you really think an ancient druid song is gonna bring Rachel back? You failed Intro to Rituals. You don’t know how to cast this spell. This is what you always do, you run off half-cocked on something just because actually living and being a fucking person is too hard for you, you left her all alone you monster—_

She stops when she clears the trees, trying to peer around the hedge maze in front of her. She can see the shimmer of the wards just barely in the moonlight, so this must be the place. The Oracle’s estate, or whatever.

She needs to find the center. She can feel it in the air, the energy of this place, the nexus that directs her stone and that Kate told her could bring back the dead. Then maybe...

Maybe _what_?

Chloe growls at herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was easy to ignore all the thoughts about how this can’t possibly work while she was trudging through the Wilds. She had a goal she knew how to accomplish. Now? What’s her plan?

Well. No one can stop her. If need be, she can take what she needs.

She calls the air to her command and shoots up above the hedges, staring down at their runic pattern. _Fancy-ass rich fuckers,_ Chloe thinks as her gaze wanders to the grand manor at the front of the gardens. But she can see the way the gardens swirl around a central clearing, a simple stone altar in the center, so she flies over and hovers directly above it. As she drops, she thinks about letting herself descend without slowing, without stopping, just ending it right here. Her life is such a mess, her plans always half-complete and destined to fail. Like going to Citadel with Rachel. It was easier to depend on other people. Smarter people.

But she does soften her landing. Because this is the only thing that matters. She needs to know _why._

As she rises up from the dirt and places her hands on the altar, she hears rustling, the pounding of little feet on the dirt. She keeps her hands where they are, stares into the stone surface, the faint tracings of a rune visible in pale blue if she looks just right. Come on. Something should click, here. She should know something, have an idea of what to do. Run into that estate and tear it apart, searching for the spell? That seems like the best—

“Chloe!”

The _fuck?_

Chloe whips around, blue hair obscuring her gaze for a moment before it settles on her shoulders again. There, standing at the entrance to the central circle, is a girl who almost looks like Max fucking Caulfield.

But that can’t be Max Caulfield because that doesn’t—

No.

It makes perfect sense.

“Chloe,” Max repeats again, like she’s in a daze. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, so are you, Fate decide to whisper in your ear to fuck with me or some—”

Max doesn’t have time for her anger, apparently, because she runs forward and embraces Chloe. “You’re alive,” she murmurs.

Chloe shoves her off. “Yeah, no thanks to you, asshole,” Chloe spits, folding her arms. “I’m not here for some big happy reunion, I didn’t think _you’d_ be here.”

“I—Chloe—”

“I didn’t _ask_ for you to be here, I’m not here for you, so unless you can give me a spell, you can fuck right off to wherever you were for the last five years.” Chloe stares her down. The last thing she wanted was to run into anybody she knew. Anyone she ever cared about. Being near them makes her stupid and all she’s ever done is screw up their lives. Why can’t she just be left alone? Why can’t she just do this idiotic thing she has planned on her own?

“Chloe, I’m sorry, but—but you can’t do this.”

Chloe’s nostrils flare as Max takes a step forward. “You don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. What I’ve been through.”

“I don’t,” Max agrees. “But—but Fate told me that what you’re doing is dangerous.”

Chloe scoffs. “Fuck Fate. Fuck all the gods. The hell have they done for me lately?”

To her surprise, Max lets out a little laugh. “Well, if you want to cast a spell, that won’t get you too far,” she says. She puts a hand on Chloe’s shoulder.  “Chloe, please. We can talk about this. About...everything. You’re here, you’re alive. And you’re, um...a prophet?”

“A what?” Chloe asks, backing up against the altar as Max traces the symbol on her right arm. “Max, you’re being extremely fucking weird.”

“That’s what Fate kept calling you. The prophet of a new god.”

Chloe balks. “Excuse me? Fuck that. I’m just here to—to bring someone back. Someone from Arcadia. Someone who might...” She looks away, her anger fading. “Who might know what happened.”

“The specter’s bargain,” Max whispers.

A chill runs down Chloe’s spine. Fucking _Fate._ Honestly, the worst goddess she’s ever heard of.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, a lump in her throat. “Like the old druid song.”

“What? What old song?” Max teeters on her heels. “We’ve been trying to figure out what that means for ages, we couldn’t find anything—”

“We who?” Chloe asks, peering over Max’s shoulder. She can hear someone approaching. Her months in the Wilds taught her to listen.

“I can feel it out here, sir. Whatever it is, it’s _very_ powerful, it might be a late-stage corruption that slipped through the wards, a dragon or worse—”

“It could be—”

The tall blonde man stops as soon as he enters the clearing, staring directly at Chloe. “...the prophet,” he finishes as another man falls in behind him, a gangly guard in uniform with a scar marking his forehead under a controlled red mane.

“Okay, first off, whoever the fuck you are, my name’s Chloe,” Chloe fumes, “Second, what the fuck is Max doing here, third—”

“Get off of my property,” the blonde man interrupts as the guard steps in front of him.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You are a danger. Fate’s warned us both.” He nods towards Max. “I will not have you stay here.”

“And what are you gonna do about it? I’m here for a _reason._ Unless you help me out, I’m staying right the fuck here.”

“Abernathy. Eject her from the grounds.”

The guard — Abernathy? — holds up a fist and it ignites as he drops into a battle-stance. “No!” Max shouts, rushing to block Chloe with her body.

“Maxine, get out of the way,” Abernathy warns. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but what the Oracle says—”

“You want to take me on?” Chloe challenges, shoving Max aside. “I’ll show you what the _prophet_ can do.”

“I don’t know what you are, but I served in the Core for—”

Chloe thrusts her hands up, and the earth rises and captures Abernathy’s legs, trapping him in mud. Seemingly undeterred, he throws a fireball at Chloe’s face, which she bats aside like it’s nothing. He blasts jets of fire from his palms, shaking the dirt off of him, but Chloe’s got him still enough. She reaches out and feels the blood coursing through his body, and with little more than a flick of the wrist, she has it under her control. Abernathy seizes in place.

“Blood magic,” he croaks. “S-sir, run, get the other guards, she’s got me—”

“Chloe, stop!” Max cries as Chloe closes her fingers, cinching Abernathy’s arteries and veins. “He’s just doing his job!”

Chloe’s not listening, not even thinking really, just staring at this man and hating him and hating everyone and everything around her for being so _fucked—_

“Chloe!” Max shouts, grabbing her wrist and forcing her out of her own head long enough to understand what she’s doing. Chloe drops her arm, staggering back against the altar, wide-eyed at what she almost did as Abernathy chokes and coughs, his master backing away nervously.

“I didn’t come here to kill people,” Chloe says, trying to keep the menace in her voice and avoid the constant stream of _monster_ in her head.

“Then what _did_ you come for?” the master asks, clearly trying to match up to Chloe’s own performance, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’m here to bring someone back.”

“Who?”

“Someone who might know what happened at Arcadia. That’s what you said, right, Chloe?” Max asks, eyes darting between them.

“Someone who might know,” the man repeats slowly.

“Victor, I know you’re worried about whatever killed Arcadia — _everyone’s_ worried!” Max sounds desperate. “And Chloe — Victor has connections. Whatever it takes to cast this spell, he can get. Just don’t...don’t hurt anyone else. Please.”

Chloe and Victor glower at each other for a moment. “Abernathy,” he says, brown eyes flicking towards his guard. “Do you think anyone in our forces could stop her?”

“Honestly, sir?” Abernathy asks, swallowing.

“Please.”

“She’s a four-element sorcerer. We’re not trained to fight all that power in a single person. Even if we could kill her, she’d take out at least a few of us...and I think she’s got practice.”

“I survived four months in the Wilds by myself,” Chloe proclaims. “I’ve killed dragons in less than five minutes.”

“Have you.” Victor sounds doubtful, but Abernathy adds, “I’d believe it. Whatever she is, she has the power of a veteran. It takes water-focii _years_ of training to even sense blood, and she just...” He shudders.

“Very well. It seems I have little choice.” Victor talks like he’s biting the words off of his tongue. “You have me at a disadvantage. For now. But you are an invader in my home, make no mistake. I will watch you closely, and if need be I can take measures to eliminate you.”

“I said I’m not here to kill people.”

“That remains to be seen. I have no reason to trust you. I’ve not made it this far in my career by _trusting_ the powerful and dangerous.” Victor’s eyes flick towards Max. “You knew this woman before?”

Max nods, glancing sideways at Chloe. “Y-yes. We were...we were close friends. Before.” She casts her gaze down at her feet.

“Then I expect you to keep her in line.”

Chloe snorts. “She was never good at that _before_ she abandoned me.”

Victor lets out an irritated grunt. “If you’re going to be staying here, then we should talk in my study. We clearly have some terms to lay out, and we might as well have some comfort instead of staying out in the gardens.” He glances down. “And we clearly need to get you some shoes,” he adds, wrinkling his nose. “You look like a druid.”

Chloe stiffens. “And you look like an gold-trimmed rich piece of shit, _sir._ ” She lights her fist and raises her eyebrows. “You seriously want to start going there right now?”

“You won’t kill me for that,” Victor replies, gritting his teeth. “But I take your point. Respect me and I shall do the same for you.”

“I mean, I’m the — what was it? _Prophet?_ I think I’m holding the cards here. But I _do_ wanna know anything you guys know, sounds like Fate’s holding out on me.”

“I think we both have information the other needs to understand the current situation,” Victor replies.

“So can we please stop almost-killing each other now?” Max pleads.

“All right, Oracle-man.” Chloe cracks her neck. “You wanna talk? We’ll talk.”

“Thank you.” Victor turns to Abernathy. “Abernathy, you may return to bed. Please awaken Mary-Ann for me and have her make us some tea. I have the feeling we’ll have a lot to discuss.”


	2. Your Past Approaches You

Max stays quiet as the party makes its way inside, constantly glancing at Chloe. She wishes this gap between them didn’t feel so wide. Wishes she hadn’t made the mistakes that made Chloe’s first reaction to her anger instead of relief or joy or...anything right. Seeing her, alive and...well, not  _ well,  _ but alive at any rate and still kicking, had been such a relief. Even if Fate had already told her who was coming, in her vague way, the confirmation had been so good. 

Until Chloe shoved her off. Until Max heard all the pain in her voice that she hadn’t been there to help Chloe through. Who knows what’s happened since she left? What brought her here, with that blue hair, that symbol on her arm?

She can’t help it. She really, really wants to know. She wants to be there for Chloe now where she couldn’t be before. But Victor’s here now, his austere presence clearly grating on Chloe’s nerves on a primal level. And somewhere in this house is the girl that Max is just starting to really know, just starting to love, the same girl that bears a permanent scar from Max’s childhood best friend.

_ This house is going to explode, _ Max bemoans as they enter the estate, Abernathy breaking off from them as they head for Victor’s study. 

Victor takes a seat behind his desk, gesturing for Max and Chloe to take the chairs across from him. The full moon shines brightly behind him, giving him a dark silhouette, barely lit by the everburning candles on the walls.

“So.” Victor steeples his fingers. “Let’s lay out what we know and what we don’t know. Let’s start with you, miss...Price? Is that correct?”

“Specifics?” Chloe challenges.

“Let’s start with the person you’re trying to bring back from the dead. Who are they, and why do you think they know anything about the disaster at Arcadia?” Victor asks.

“Her name was Rachel Amber.” Chloe’s voice wavers when she says the name. Max wants to reach out, touch her, calm her, because she looks so...sad. “She was a shaper. The best I’ve ever heard of. She’s the one who gave me this,” Chloe continues, running her hand over the symbol on her arm. “And this,” she adds, flipping back some of her hair. “On the night Arcadia fell, us sorcerers, anyone with primal sense — we heard this, this scream. It sounded like her voice. I followed it to its source, and I found her there. Dead. Killed by...a couple of monsters. They said something about her having contingencies, but I...” Chloe swallows. “I need to ask her. What happened.”

“A shaper, you said. Do you think she purposefully crafted something to destroy Arcadia?” Victor inquires. 

“I...no. She wouldn’t have. The people that killed her, they must have screwed something up, but I don’t—I don’t know.” Chloe picks at the hem of her dress. 

“And she performed a spell of some kind to...give you all four focus-signs? How is that possible?”

Chloe shrugs at him aggressively. “I don’t know! She just did it. That’s what shapers do, right, they make new spells!”

“There are rules to the art of shaping,” Victor says, clearly trying to keep his temper under control. “None of the gods have power over primal magic. That was the domain of the Old Gods, and only their wisps continue granting focus-signs to humanity. Not to mention the sheer amount of power it would take to seal such a spell’s contract.”

“I don’t know any of that shit. I’m just a random nobody who she...” Chloe looks away. “That she liked, for some reason.”

“And yet Fate calls you a prophet of a new god.” Victor hums for a moment. “Miss Price, let me tell you what I think happened. I think this Rachel Amber somehow called the wisps of the Old Gods together and had them form a new divine entity composed of their remnants — and that is who she made the contract with, who her spell calls out to. Not only that, since you are the first recipient of this new god’s power, you’ve been granted more than just the four focus-signs. Your powers are extraordinary. Perhaps it is simply the combination of four enchantments, or maybe this god  _ does  _ directly favor you, making you an entirely new sort of blessed individual.”

Chloe shrugs at him. “Who gives a shit, really?”

Victor balks. “Don’t you understand the consequences of this? Of your own power? If we can recreate the spell she cast on you, we could have an army capable of taming the Wilds with brute force alone, stopping any warlock that dared to get in the Witchdom’s way. This is the biggest change in the magical landscape since the fall of the Old Gods!”

“Didn’t ask for it,” Chloe mumbles. “Just wanted to be with Rachel. And now she’s gone. So that’s what I’m doing. Bringing her back.”   


“We can’t do that.”

“What?” Max and Chloe both say at once.

“If this shaper was the cause of the collapse of Arcadia’s wards, bringing her back — whether as a ghost or a full resurrection — poses untold dangers. The kind of person who does that is someone who’s better off dead.” Victor folds his arms. “Not to mention I’ve got no idea what the spell you’re planning to cast  _ is. _ ”

“It’s an old Druidic ritual,” Chloe tells him, clenching her fist. “They used it here to summon their elders to ask their advice. That’s all.”

“Then it’s probably being kept a secret from us regardless and we can’t help you cast it anyway. Give this up, girl. Go to the Primal Core and put your talents to actual u—”

Victor starts choking, seizing in his seat as Chloe holds out a threatening hand. “Chloe!” Max shouts, panic rising in her chest. No, no, she can’t do this, Chloe can’t, Chloe would never—

But Max doesn’t know Chloe anymore.

“Listen, shitstain,” Chloe hisses. “You’re not in charge here anymore. I am. You said I’m blessed, right? And you know that your fancy spells don’t always work right against sorcerers to start out with. So I’m thinking you hold fucking  _ nothing  _ and I’m the one calling the shots.”

“Chloe, please, let go of him—”   


“So you’re a big fancy Oracle. And you have the druids’ old nexus. So that means you can call them in. You have connections. That’s what you said, right, Max?” Chloe casts her gaze at Max, blue eyes hard and angry, and Max wonders if she’s going to get her blood taken too. So far she’s the only person Chloe’s met tonight who hasn’t incurred her wrath. 

“Y-yes, but Chloe, please, don’t hurt him—”

The door behind them opens and Chloe drops her control over Victor, letting him cough and sputter as the servant comes in with a plate of three teacups. She quickly sets it down and runs out as fast as she can, leaving the three of them staring at each other in awkward silence. Max takes the tea just to have something calm her nerves. 

Victor sniffs. “I see you won’t be persuaded to see sense.”

“Never was much good at that,” Chloe shoots back.

Victor leans back in his seat, looking suddenly much older. Defeated. Max looks between the two of them and wishes so badly that this isn’t how this is going. That this wasn’t the way for her to meet Chloe again. Victor takes a sip of tea. Chloe eyes her cup suspiciously.

“The Druidic Delegation is due to arrive next week,” he says after a long quiet moment. “You may make your case to them when they arrive. Until then, you are to be treated as a guest of my estate, albeit an unwelcome one. I would... _ appreciate  _ it if you made use of our bathing facilities and my tailor to present yourself properly.” He sighs and rubs his brow. “Maxine. Can you please show Miss Price to the guest room in the upper west wing? We may discuss further arrangements in the morning. For now, it is late, and I’m sure this has been an exhausting night for us all.”

“Fine by me.” Chloe gets up as Max carefully places her half-drained cup on the desk. 

Max sees Victor slump over his desk as she leaves the room by Chloe’s side.

Chloe lets out a long sigh as soon as she’s out of Victor’s sight. “That guy is a serious prick,” she complains, stretching out. “Cool the way you let him order you around. What are you, his little servant?”

“I’m his apprentice,” Max says quietly. 

Chloe snorts. “Right, right. You wanna be a real Oracle. Guess that was the only thing you ever cared about.”

“Chloe, I—”   


“Whatever.” Chloe turns away from her. “Show me to my room, slave,” she adds, mocking Victor’s accent. 

Max bites her lip, wilting a bit. It feels like it’s easier to stand up to Victor than Chloe. Because she never did anything to deserve that treatment from him, maybe. But Chloe...Chloe’s got her reasons to be angry. Maybe a lot of reasons to be angry. And Max wasn’t there to help her, and she could have been.

So she just meekly leads the way, Chloe stalking behind her like some beast of the Wilds. Max’s eye keeps wandering to the charm around her neck. If all the charms cracked in Arcadia, like the stories said, where did that come from? What has she been  _ doing _ , the past six months? 

Chloe catches her looking and scowls, so Max averts her eyes until they’re in front of what Max  _ thinks  _ is the guest room. She’s not really sure of the entire layout yet. 

“This is it,” she says lamely as Chloe walks in front of her, opening the door and beholding a darkened room. Chloe lights one finger with a small spark of flame, looks around, then shoots the flame at a candle on the nightstand to keep it lit.

“Sweet. An actual bed sounds fuckin’ kickass,” Chloe says, her tone lightening for the first time this evening. “Gods, I’ve been sleeping on the ground for-fucking-ever.” She throws herself onto the bed, stretching herself out across it. She lets out a long groan, rubbing her face into the covers. 

“You can go away now,” Chloe says after a minute of Max staring at her and trying to come up with something, anything, to bridge the gap between them. To make a start on repairing this.

“Chloe...I did try,” Max says, looking down at her feet and putting a hand on the doorframe. “To reach you.”   


Chloe rolls over and props herself up on an elbow, her blue brows narrowed. “Really. When?”

“A-after I heard what happened—”

“That’s the definition of ‘too fucking late,’ Max.” Chloe falls on her back. “I smashed the crystal ball anyway.”

Max’s chest tightens.

“About an hour or two before everything went to hell. I thought I was going somewhere. With Rachel. But she left me too.” Chloe’s voice breaks. “But at least she didn’t  _ mean  _ to.”

“Chloe, I—I didn’t mean to, I just...I didn’t know how to...”   


“Save it. You weren’t there. That’s how it was. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” Chloe grunts. “Just go away.”

“Chloe—”   


Chloe lifts an arm into the air and the door swings shut with a blast of wind, nearly taking Max’s fingers off. Max sighs, putting her palm to the door, but the conversation’s over. For now. 

As she turns to leave, a single, dangerous thought strikes her mind.

_ What the  _ hell  _ am I going to tell Victoria? _


	3. Tomorrow There May Be A Funeral

Victoria wakes to the sound of her door slowly opening, Max’s silhouette framed in the archway. She turns over, blinking as Max stands there nervously, biting her lip. Victoria’s not sure what to think for a moment. Her hopeful instincts tell her _she wants to sleep in here tonight_ and that’s a nice thought, a rare thing for Victoria most days, so she smiles and lazily cocks her head, indicating that Max should come forward.

Max slowly shuts the door behind her and approaches in the dark, Victoria shifting over on the bed, heart pounding. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast — Max, for everything that’s wonderful about her, seems like she’s going to need some serious adjusting — but Victoria’s not going to complain. She aches to touch her, wrap herself around her. She’ll take anything Max has to give. In this late hour, it feels like anything could happen.

Max crawls up onto the bed and sits down beside Victoria, on top of the covers. Victoria wants her to come under. To really join her. But something starts to feel off as Max crosses her legs staring into her lap, her hand groping along the surface of the bed until Victoria takes it.

“Is something wrong?” Victoria asks, feeling the tension in Max’s fingers. Max breathes in and out, in and out. She’s shaking. “Max?”

“I have something to tell you,” Max says at last, flexing her fingers against Victoria’s. “And...and I’m scared.”

Victoria sits up, a chill striking her chest. “Scared of what?”

“S-scared for you. Gods, I haven’t even told you about my visions, have I? The ones that me and Victor have been working on?”

“...no.” Victoria clenches her free hand. “I thought it was just — the stuff he always works on. Predicting ward failures, warlock attacks, crop yields, that crap.”

“It’s...it’s been about someone really powerful. A prophet of a new god. And Oracles started having visions about this the same day that Arcadia fell. So we...I didn’t want to worry you, I wanted to find out what was going on, if it was chasing you, so did your dad, but then tonight...” Max swallows. “She’s arrived. The prophet.”

“This person is _here?”_ Victoria asks, eyes widening.

“She’s in the guest room. And Victoria, the prophet, it’s...” Max gulps, pushing hair back from her forehead. “It’s Chloe.”

Victoria’s frozen.

“She...she survived Arcadia’s fall because this shaper girl, Rachel Amber, gave her all four focus-signs, and...”

At the name _Rachel Amber_ , Victoria feels sweat beading on her neck, goosebumps rising on her flesh.

“...and she’s come here to...to bring her back. To try and find out what happened.” Max is having trouble getting her next words out. “A-and she _hates_ me. And I know you two have some...some problems, some history, and I’m scared she’ll hurt you. She’s already hurt people tonight, she’s so _angry_.” Max shudders. “I don’t know what to do. Everything’s a mess, and it’s my fault...”

“How is it your fault?” Victoria asks, latching onto that part and trying to ignore the panic rising in her. “Max, I — if anything, it’s mine. I...did some things at Blackwell, to Rachel, that might’ve...” She steadies her breathing as Max turns to her, wide blue eyes shining. “Sometimes, I think I caused it,” Victoria murmurs, looking away. “Chloe...Chloe probably wants to kill me. If she remembers me, after all this time...I can’t see her, Max, I need to hide, I need to _go_ , it’s all my fault—”

“Victoria, what are you talking about?” Max asks fearfully, turning and grabbing her other hand.

“Max, I told you I did bad things at Blackwell, I told you—” Victoria tries to take a moment, closing her eyes, breathing slowly. How does she even start?

“I...I told you before I’ve been with a girl. And it wasn’t good. That was me and Rachel.”

Max gasps. “But Chloe said — or I thought, it seemed like—”

“Rachel had...she had a lot of people she was with. She was...she was _using_ me.” Bile builds in the back of Victoria’s throat. “I—I...gods, this is a lot.” She swallows. “I couldn’t cast spells, when I first went to Blackwell. Rachel...she found out. So she started blackmailing me, getting me to send off to my parents for special books and reports. The other stuff...I don’t know. It was complicated. It hurt.” Victoria’s voice weakens on the last word.

“Victoria, I’m—I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Max says, drawing her into an awkward embrace. “That sounds awful. How could she...”

“I _hated_ her,” Victoria seethes. “Once I figured out how to cast, I cursed her. I made her teeth fall out, told her I’d never help her again. Not long after that...Chloe came by looking for Rachel. I told her everything I knew about her, who she’d been with, what she’d done to me, and she didn’t believe me. I was trying to ruin her life and Chloe...she burned me because she didn’t want to believe me. That’s when the wards fell. And she ran off.”

“And she found Rachel’s body,” Max finishes with a whisper. “Both of you...” There’s an edge growing in her voice. “How could she do that to you? Or to Chloe?” It sounds almost like she’s about to start crying, except there’s a _fury_ there that Victoria’s never heard from her before.

“I don’t know,” Victoria mumbles. “She was involved with a lot of people. She kept a lot of secrets. I don’t know what her plan was unless...maybe it was all for Chloe? For that...that power you talked about?”

“I should’ve been there for Chloe, if I'd known, I’dve...I could’ve done something! Instead, this, this stranger comes into her life and yours and just...” Max’s fingers clutch at Victoria’s nightgown. “Gods, Victoria, I’m scared. I’m scared I screwed everything up and I don’t know what’s going to happen, if she sees you, if she does bring Rachel back somehow, what would she do?”

“Max...” Victoria clings tighter. “I can’t be here, not with Chloe here, not with this crazy plan of hers—”

“I need you.” Max’s voice is surprisingly strong. “I need you here and I need you to be okay. I can’t let you...I can’t lose you like I lost her, look what happened when I did that, please, Victoria, stay, we’ll — I’ll try to protect you, as much as I can, everyone will. But I need you. Please.”

Victoria thinks of when she made Max cry and she absolutely cannot have that happen again, despite the fact that they’re both trembling and on the verge of total panic as it is. So she says, “Okay. Okay.”

“We’ll be careful.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry, Victoria.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I _cursed_ her.” Victoria sniffs. “I never should’ve—”

“It’s in the past, and — and I can’t imagine how much she hurt you. I...I think I get why you hated me when I first got here.” Max squeezes her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

They hold to each other in silence for a while. A nice, long, warm while. When Max finally separates from Victoria, Victoria doesn’t want her to go. Max herself looks uncertain, glancing toward the door but not making any move.

“...can I stay in here tonight?” Max asks after a moment.

Thank the heavens.

Victoria nods, worried that her voice will crack if she says anything, so she just lifts the covers and lets Max crawl in under them. Once they’re lying down, face-to-face, Victoria can’t resist her urge to kiss Max, hold her close. Max nestles her head into Victoria’s chest and it’s enough to keep Victoria’s mind from spiraling, keeps the memory of Chloe’s burning touch from overwhelming her mind, because Max is here, and Max would never hurt her.

 

* * *

 

Victoria awakens to the sound of knocking just down the hall. As Max makes a cute little grumbling noise and stirs in Victoria’s arms, Victoria hears, “Maxine! Maxine, answer me! We need to talk as soon as possible!”

“Shit!” Victoria whispers, shaking Max by the shoulder. “Max!”

“Mnnn?” Max starts blinking sleep out of her eyes. “Wha?”

So this is what she’s like in the morning. Fantastic.

“Max, he’s coming to—”

The knock comes to Victoria’s door.

“Victoria, have you seen Maxine?”

“No!” Victoria calls back, dragging Max out of the bed, her eyes wide as she realizes the situation she’s in. “Get _in_ there,” Victoria hisses, shoving Max into the closet behind her dresses as the door opens. Victoria makes a show of covering herself despite the fact that her nightgown reaches past her knees. “Dad!”

Victor looks around her room with narrowed eyes, but seems to find nothing to object to. Well, until he looks at Victoria and wrinkles his nose.

“Shouldn’t you have been up already? We have a very serious issue in this estate. Meet me in the library downstairs soon, I’ll explain. And if you see Maxine, send her down.”

“Fine, now can you get out of my room?”

Victor grunts, slamming the door on his way out. Victoria breathes a sigh of relief as Max eases her way out of the closet.

“Close one,” Max comments, stretching out. “If he found me in here, do you think...”

“I don’t know, and I’m not really interested in finding out,” Victoria says quickly. It’s hard to imagine Victor finding out about this. About them. Seeing Max in the morning light, in her nightgown, is pretty nice, though. She catches herself staring and clears her throat, remembering that they are still in a hell of a volatile situation. Why does she always have to make life more complicated for herself?

“I should...go get dressed,” Max says. “I’ll see you downstairs?”

Victoria nods. “Yeah. Make sure he doesn’t see you come out of there. Hopefully he’s not going for the crystal ball right now.”

“Oh, shit, you have a point.” Max takes on a flustered look for a second, looking like she’s about to bolt for the door but also —

She grabs Victoria’s shoulders and gives her a quick peck. “We’ll make it through today,” she promises, before running over to the door, cracking it to scan for Victors, and then going straight for her room while Victoria runs a hand through her hair and quietly thanks the gods for Max.

Once she’s dressed herself and checked her glamour, Victoria steps out of her room and waits to see if Max will join her, because she’ll be damned if she has any interest at all in meeting Chloe again with only her father to support her. Max comes out of her room a moment later and they wordlessly link hands as they head down the stairs, separating reluctantly when they reach the door to the library. Judging by the raised voices behind it, Chloe’s already getting into it with Victor. And that _is_ Chloe. That’s her voice. Of all the people to survive Arcadia, it had to be Chloe.

Max stands with her hand cupped around the doorknob, looking to Victoria for permission. She swallows and nods, because by the sound of things, nothing’s about to calm Chloe down.

As Max opens the door, words become clearer: “Just because your pretentious ass can see into the future doesn’t mean you _know_ me. You have no idea what I’ve been through, how much I gave up to get here—”

Chloe turns from Victor, standing at the other end of the table, and her eyes focus directly on Victoria.

“What the fuck,” Chloe mutters, eyes widening as the two of them stare at each other. Victor clears his throat.

“I was about to say. My daughter survived Arcadia, so I know damned well the pain it causes, but that’s no excuse for making yourself an enemy of everyone at this estate—” he begins, but Chloe’s smouldering. Smoke pours from her palms, but instead of seething and raging like Victoria’s expecting, (and like Max is expecting too, judging by the way she positions herself in front of Victoria) she laughs.

“Of fucking course it would be you I run into,” she mutters, pushing back her blue bangs. “Of fucking course _you_ would survive. Fucking brilliant.”

Victoria stiffens, but she’s not stupid enough to provoke Chloe. Not right now, not the way she’s putting off visible waves of heat.

“Guess you musta been a decent witch after all.” Chloe muses. Victoria doesn’t dare relax. Something’s going to happen. It can’t be good. The look in Chloe’s eye is blank, but there’s a stirring behind it.

“My daughter is a talented witch,” Victor states defiantly, and Victoria shoots him a confused look. Since when does he compliment her skills? But then, she figures, it’s a way to fight Chloe, which is clearly his biggest issue right now. Chloe must be a terrible burden for him, this uncontrollable ball of anger and spite. Max was bad enough for his sense of control; Chloe must be driving him mad. Despite herself, Victoria wants to smirk at the thought.

“Mm. Is she.” And with that, Chloe throws out a hand and Victoria’s pulled forward by a great force of wind, shooting her straight into Chloe’s grip, her hand around Victoria’s throat.

“Chloe!” Max cries as Chloe’s hateful blue eyes burn into Victoria’s skull, as she squeezes tight around Victoria’s throat and leaves her gasping.

“This. Fucking. Bitch.” Chloe’s nails dig into Victoria’s flesh as she thrashes and squirms. “Do you two know what she _did_ at Blackwell? She cast the Curse of Unbinding! On Rachel!”

“Do not speak about my daughter like that! Unhand her!” Victor says sharply, pulling a sword from his cane and rushing around the table.

“Chloe, I know she did,” Max adds, approaching them nervously as Victoria begs her for help with her eyes. “She regrets it, she’s a different person now, let her go!”

“What the fuck use is she to me,” Chloe growls, the heat in her fingertips searing the hairs on Victoria’s neck.

“She is the best witch in this estate and she may _know_ the ritual you’re talking about, or even another more useful one!” Victor states, leveling his sword at the back of Chloe’s neck. “Let her go or I’ll—”

With a kick, Chloe sends him flying against the bookshelves, wind rattling the chandelier above them. “Don’t point that fuckin’ thing at me,” Chloe states, glancing over her shoulder. She looks back to Victoria, really stares into her, and then finally the grip loosens and she releases Victoria.

Victoria doubles over, coughing and hacking, as Victor struggles to get up. Max rushes to embrace Victoria, rubbing her back, telling her to breathe.

Chloe whirls and plants her foot on Victor’s chest, keeping him down. “And what can she do to help?” she asks. “Huh? Because all I’ve ever seen her do is tear people down and ruin people’s lives.”

Victor coughs. “She...she asked for a lot of...unusual spell material that was lost in the Arcadia evacuation. But she has a perfect memory for spells. She may have what you need. Even if she doesn’t, she’s your best bet for preparing the ritual.”

Chloe looks over her shoulder, her mouth twisting in disgust as she sees Max’s hold on Victoria, her gentle attentions. “Well, Vicky?” she spits. “Got anything for me or should I just—”

“Don’t hurt her any more,” Max says firmly, glaring at Chloe. “That’s _enough._ ”

“You don’t get to fucking talk to me—”

“Chloe, I know you’re hurt, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in here and start — start threatening to _kill_ people! I _want_ to help you. I want to figure out what happened as much as you do, I want you to have your answers, but you can’t keep doing this!” Max prepares to take a step forward, but Victoria stops her. She stands, catches her breath, and looks Chloe in the eye.

Chloe seems a little less certain in her anger than before as Victoria says, “I don’t think I have what you’re looking for.”

“Then what good are you?” Chloe challenges, stepping off of Victor and folding her arms.

“I know you won’t get it from our records. All the necromancy I know of is flawed for the purpose you’re looking for. You can animate a corpse, but it will be mindless. You can resurrect her — though that would take more materials than even we have on hand — but she would have no memory of her former life, her spirit would not return to her. If you pulled her spirit unwillingly across the divide, she would become little more than a mindless flailing poltergeist desperate to return home. And I can guarantee you one thing.” Chloe snarls as Victoria takes a step closer. “You can’t perform this spell on your own. You dropped out of Blackwell. And you forgot to bring her body, didn’t you?”

Chloe looks stricken. “What?”

“If this is a spell involving someone else you need _at least_ a lock of her hair,” Victoria says. “So unless you took that with you out here, you’re wasting your time.”

“W-whatever. You’re just trying to get rid of me. Fuck you. I’ll make the druids do it when they get here.” Chloe shoves her way past Victoria, then stops in front of Max. “Nice best friend replacement you got, Max. Hope she makes your fingernails fall off, too.”

She slams the door on her way out, and everyone in the room collectively lets go of their breath. Victoria wants to hug Max, wants to shake and cry and let go of the fear that’s inside of her, but Victor’s looking right at her. She has to keep this up. Like she did at Blackwell, like she’s done here all her life. But tonight, in the dark, Max will let her drop her guard. She holds onto that as Victor pinches his brow and sighs.

“Well. Hopefully that will keep her from demanding anything more in the next few days. We’ll keep her fed and clothed, but I’d advise everyone to stay away. She is...volatile.”

Victoria wants to say _no shit_ but the last thing she needs is to lose the fragile unity the three of them have with each other at this moment. She just nods.

“Maxine, I assume you will understand that I am not in a good position to teach you today. If you wish, you may maintain the estate with Victoria while I attempt to draft a letter to the Delegation explaining the current...predicament."

Max nods vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Breakfast will be served in an hour. Please do not be late.”

Max and Victoria make a quick exit from the library as Victor takes a chair, and as soon as they’re out of his sight Max hugs Victoria.

“Are you all right?” she asks, tracing the red welts where Chloe’s fingertips scorched her skin.

“I’m alive,” Victoria replies. “I can...I’ll teach you how to heal me.”

“I-I’d like that.”

“Good. Because we have breakfast with her in an hour and if she does that _again_ it might be a problem.”

Max laughs a little, which is all Victoria wants. Max didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. Any of this. The least Victoria can do is try to help her find some humor in it.

As she leads Max to the magical stores, Victoria tries not to remember the words to the Curse of Unbinding. But she still pictures what it would be like if Chloe just fell apart one day, and left her and Max alone for good.


	4. Oceans of Vertigo

If Chloe had been asked how to make her life as shitty as it could possibly be, she’s not sure she could’ve come up with anything better than being in this house.

Max. _Victoria._ It’s like the gods themselves reached down and plucked the two people Chloe would never want to meet again and made them unite against her. She storms through the halls, searching the estate for something, _anything,_ a drop of alcohol or a single mushroom or just anything she can consume to dull her anger, the flames being fanned by her own helplessness.

She knows she can’t really get anything done and that just makes her want to tear this place apart all the more. They aren’t lying to her, or hiding anything from her. They’re scared out of their minds by her, and who wouldn’t be? She might not be growing scales anymore but she’s still the monster that the Wilds made her into. Before last night, she’d never used her new powers on a human, but it was only a matter of time.

She remembers sinking a burning finger into Victoria’s cheek, the night the wards fell. The first time she’d used her powers to hurt someone other than herself, on purpose, anyway. Victoria saying things like “She even fucked _me_.” She was lying. She had to be lying. Victoria’s a jealous, power-hungry bitch, that’s all she ever was, she was just saying that to fuck with you. Rachel loved you. Only you.

Hell, she gave you the fucking godhood, didn’t she?

Chloe’s been barging into rooms without really thinking about it, scanning them to see if they have any supplies and closing them immediately, but at this door, she stops. Because someone’s sitting on the dresser. An old, familiar face.

She steps towards the stuffed owlbear, wincing at the damage it seems to have taken in five years, but...but Max kept it. It doesn’t make sense. Max abandoned her. Max left her alone and never contacted her, when Chloe needed her the most. Max didn’t care about Chloe or Arcadia or anything but her little dream of Oraclehood, that’s the only way any of this makes sense.

The way that it’s not Chloe’s fault.

Chloe could have started the connection. Max gave her all the tools, and Chloe just let them sit there until David stole the crystal ball. But she needed Max to do it. Needed someone to show that they gave one shit about her after everyone left her alone, and she didn’t do it. So she has a right to be angry, dammit. She’s the one who’s in the right here.

Chloe reaches for Captain anyway, because memories are surfacing, winning this for Max, giving it to her, feeling warm and light at seeing her smile. She hasn’t made Max smile yet. She might never do that again. The thought makes her sick at herself.

When her fingers graze the frayed threads running out of the owlbear’s eye socket, a _crack_ reverberates through the room and lightning shoots up Chloe’s arm. “What the fuck?!” she shouts aloud, clutching at her hand as the sting starts to fade from it. She glares at Captain. What did Max do to him?

She remembers something vaguely from her time at Blackwell, something about soulbound objects and how they reject people who try to touch them. She can’t decide if that’s nice because Max decided to soulbind this silly thing, or shitty because it means Chloe can’t hold it and remember better times.

She snarls and turns away, and there’s the matching crystal ball, too. And the lock of blond hair. So Max did try. She wasn’t lying, at least. Chloe runs a hand through her long blue strands and chuckles to herself. She probably couldn’t have even looked for Chloe. The gods are so fickle about this shit sometimes.

Chloe sinks onto Max’s bed, running her hands through her hair. She should leave. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be thinking about all this. After she talks to Rachel, there’ll be nothing left to live for. Might as well keep these burning bridges lit. She can’t think about how much she misses having a friend, how much she used to like Max, how Max looks now that she’s all grown-up and actually starting to accomplish her dreams.

She can’t like anyone again. All she does is hurt them. Like the druid girl she left alone at the edge of a lake, at the end of Arcadia.

She can’t think about her, either, can’t think about what it was like to wake up alone. She’s better off. Chloe might’ve hurt her, but Kate’s better off not thinking or worrying about her ever again. Just like Max would’ve been better off if she’d never come back into her life. Just like everyone in this house would be happier without her here.

Well, they won’t have to deal with her for long. A week. She can survive a week.

She gets up and leaves the room. The last thing she needs is for Max to find her in there, acting like a huge pussy. Or worse, Victor or Victoria. She heads back to her own room, glad to be thinking about Victoria instead of Max, about what a piece of —

But what was with the way Max protected Victoria? Max is still...she’s still _nice,_ and Victor and his daughter are two of the shittiest human beings that Chloe’s ever met. Max isn’t that stupid, is she? She knows what Victoria is. What she’s done. How could Victoria have possibly changed?

Are they more than just friends?

Chloe tries to clear her thoughts as she heads back into her room. By the gods, she could use a drink. She’s already made it clear that she’s an enemy of everyone on these grounds; all she has left is the company of drugs, should she find them.

She falls back on her bed and stares at the ceiling. At least this place is comfortable.

A voice rings through the walls. “Miss Price, breakfast is ready downstairs.”

This place is just full of enchantments, isn’t it? Chloe’s not sure she wants to meet everyone for breakfast, but she _is_ hungry. She never really ate well in the Wilds. Hard to do that when everything scattered away from her charm.

So with a reluctant groan, she rises and heads downstairs, and after a few moments of wandering manages to find the dining room. Victor sits at the head of the table, Victoria and Max sitting across from each other just in front of him. Chloe’s plate sits at the other end, so she can stare right at Victor’s perfect (probably glamoured) face the whole time she’s eating. Great.

Still, at least he gets the best from Citadel and the wild game ranges out there. The meat, whatever it is, is amazing, and for as long as there’s something to consume Chloe’s happy to ignore the three of them entirely. It’s easier this way.

But eventually someone has to talk, and of course it’s Max because that girl never really could keep her curiosity to herself. “So...Chloe, I was wondering...” she begins, despite Chloe’s warning glare. _Stop. Don’t try this, don’t make me want to like you._ “If all protective magic broke in Arcadia, where did you get that charm you have?”

“Found it,” Chloe grunts.

“In the Wilds?”

“Was I anywhere else?”

“Was it just, like, laying on the ground or—”

“What the fuck do you care, Max?” Chloe interrupts, stabbing one of the few remaining peas defiantly. “In a week or two I’ll be gone and you can go back to forgetting I exist for years at a time. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Max stammers, trying to get something out, but—

“Leave her alone,” Victoria says, the words apparently coming as a surprise to her as much as anyone at the table.

Chloe scoffs. “The fuck do you care? I thought you rich fuckers threw each other to the dogs all the time. Shouldn’t you have a better self-preservation instinct?”

Victor clears his throat. “Can I request that we please remain _somewhat_ civil at the table? No one has to talk but we most assuredly don’t need a confrontation three times a day.”

Max looks down at her plate, a blush growing on her cheeks. She looks miserably embarrassed, like she’s the one who did something wrong, but Chloe’s the asshole. As usual. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Max is better off not knowing. Hell, Chloe would be better off not knowing. If she’d just come across the charm in the Wilds everything _would_ be simpler.

Then she wouldn’t have that girl weighing on her mind. Is this how Max felt after she left Chloe? Had Chloe actually been on her mind, but Max felt too guilty to talk?

At least leaving hadn’t been Max’s choice.

Chloe stands up abruptly and leaves the table. She hears a sigh of relief from Victoria and wants to smack her, but Victor was right. Might as well keep some kind of peace. Besides, she’s tired of talking to these people. She’s tired of thinking about them, tired of thinking about anything. Maybe she should resume her search. If there’s some pantry full of spell components (and there _must_ be given the sheer amount of magic she feels every moment she’s in this place) it’ll probably have something to blank out her mind.

She finds her bounty after she decides to descend into the lower levels, the complex underneath the gardens, all stone and wet earth down here. It’s a little bit out-of-the-way, but as she pulls the door open and steps into a room chilled by some spell or another to keep things fresh, she knows what she needs immediately. The bowl of red nuts on the shelf, there, those, _yes._ As she takes two handfuls and stuffs them in her pockets, she remembers the first time that Rachel gave her one of these, remembers pressing herself up against Rachel’s body as their skin sung. She wonders what it might’ve been like, to kiss her then. All the time she’d wasted, waiting for Rachel to love her back.

She heads upstairs, trying not to think, ready to drown in the time-altering strangeness of an augurnut high. At least Fate’s good for something. As soon as she’s in her room she pops an entire handful in her mouth, laying on her back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, chewing the nuts into a gritty red paste.

Ah. There it is. Thank the gods.

It comes on fairly quick, starting with the tingles along every inch of her skin. But that’s not all she needs. If it was just that she wanted, one or two would’ve done it. No, she needs the ceiling to waver before her eyes and then vanish entirely, she needs to slip back to times when she wasn’t so miserable.

She sees Max at thirteen years old, running ahead of her through town and holding Chloe’s toy sword, shouting, “I know what you’re gonna dooooo,” just before darting around a corner. As Chloe follows, she trips and falls straight in a puddle, groaning as Max gloats above her.

“That’s seriously what Fate told you I’d do? She’s a jerk,” Chloe complains as she gets up and shakes out her hair.

Max giggles, holding the sword by its point. It feels like Chloe could reach out and touch her. She’s got such a cute smile. Chloe remembers blushing and looking away as Max says, “She’s talking to me more and more. I can’t wait to learn how to understand her better,” but now, she can just stare and remember what it felt like to be young.

Chloe feels that pang of fear again. “And you’ll take me with you when you go to Citadel to be an Oracle, right?” she says.

“Of course. What would I do without you to prank?”

Chloe smiles, then tackles Max to the ground. “Fate told you I’d do _this,_ right?” she asks as she takes the sword from Max’s grip.

And now she’s on top of Rachel, in their hideout, and Rachel is beautiful and she said _I love you_ tonight and she gave Chloe these amazing abilities and they’re leaving tomorrow, and Chloe wraps her arms around Rachel and they roll and—

And now her body’s entangled in Kate’s in the tent in the dark, and Kate tastes like earth and salt and warmth, and she can’t stay, she can’t stay even though she wants to, she can’t let Kate love her this way, can’t love her back this way, look at the way it all went before, every other time, she has to get there first, has to leave first—

A knock blasts her out of her memories and she’s staring up at a pitching, rolling ceiling, covered in sweat, panting hard. She looks down at her body to figure out if she’s gone totally paralytic yet, and she does manage to waggle her fingers, so she’s okay. She ate _a lot_ of those, didn’t she?

The knock again, Max’s small voice. “Chloe?”

Chloe remembers a best friend. Not a girl she met in the dark and hated, not the girl who abandoned her. Her mind’s swimming. Nothing’s staying still. But nothing hurts, either, nothing hurts as much as that last memory, anyway.

“Yeah?” she calls back.

“C-can I come in? We should talk. For real. Just you and me.”

Talk? Talking sounds super hard. But she feels nice. And Max is nice. Why is Max still nice? She should’ve gotten as mean as Chloe did. As mean as Victoria and Victor are. Why is Max so good? Why was Kate so good, why was Rachel so amazing? Chloe doesn’t deserve these people in her life.

“Chloe?”

“Yeah, sure.” Why the fuck not. Nothing else makes sense right now. “Come in.”

 


	5. Backed Into A Corner Of Yourself

“I need to talk to her,” Max says quietly as they sit on the edge of the bed in Max’s room, hands linked.

“No,” Victoria states, squeezing. “Max, you can’t fix her. You can’t try. It’s too dangerous.”

“I helped you,” Max points out. “And I owe her.”

“Max, you _can’t,_ ” Victoria repeats, her fingers shaking. “Let’s just — let’s try to get through this, like she said. Soon she’ll be gone and we won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“I’m not gonna be the girl she thinks I am,” Max replies urgently. “I didn’t — I didn’t _mean_ to abandon her, and I feel like such an asshole about it, and I just wanna make things right. At least a little bit.”

“Max, she’s crazy. She’s dangerous. Please, stay away from her, for me?” Victoria begs, shifting and looking right at her. “If—if you make her angry, we don’t know what she’ll do, how fast she could — she could...” The words catch in Victoria’s throat.

“Dammit, Max, can’t you just let something go for once?” she pleads.

Max looks at Victoria, and she’s so frightened. Her face is open, begging, her hands tight on Max’s. Max swallows. Victoria’s right, of course she is, she knows Chloe’s rage better than anyone else here. But still...

“Victoria, she’s — she’s alone. Totally alone. And it’s my fault, and I can’t stand to see someone living like that. You know that.” She runs a hand along Victoria’s cheek. “And if we don’t start getting along, I think she’ll just get worse, and I couldn’t have her hurt you.”

Victoria bites her lip, then embraces Max, putting her head on her shoulder. Victoria’s breathing slows, and as they pull apart, her expression’s changed. Hardened. Like she’s thinking.

“If you have to do this, you’re not doing it unprotected,” Victoria says. “There’s — hm. She’s powerful enough that you’re still in danger even if I cast what I’m thinking about, but it’ll protect you from the first attack at least.” Victoria stands up and brushes herself off. “Come on.”

Max gets up and kisses Victoria’s cheek. It’s so good to have Victoria’s support in this; Max feared she’d be doing it all on her own, but Victoria does really care about her. _Probably because I’m the only good thing in her life,_ she thinks, and she feels her stomach drop at the thought. Victoria deserves more than that. So does Chloe.

Once Victoria’s picked all her components up out of the magical stores, she leads Max upstairs and out to the altar. “Get up on it,” she instructs, “sit with your legs crossed.” Max obeys, and Victoria reaches into the bag she grabbed and sprinkles a black-and-blue powder in her hair. “Don’t cough,” Victoria adds, “or sneeze. Stay totally still.”

Well, now Max is thinking about it, so that makes things harder, but she holds still as best she can while Victoria arranges gems and plant matter around her, familiar parts of reinforcing wards. Victoria performs a silent series of hand gestures, then speaks a simple incantation. The powder in Max’s hair flashes and loses its blue, and Max’s skin tingles as the leaves and stems around her curl up into ash.

“You can shake your hair out now,” Victoria instructs. Max does, and Victoria coughs as she’s sprayed with the ash. “It should ward off a primal attack or two. It’s what we cast on dragon-hunters who don’t have fire,” Victoria informs her as Max starts sweeping the ashes off herself. “I...I don’t know if it’ll be enough. She could break through it without much work if she really tried. Just...if she gets impulsive, it’ll throw her off a bit and you can run.”

Max nods and slides off the altar, giving Victoria a quick hug. “I...should go alone. I don’t think she wants to see you.”

“No offense, Max, but I was _never_ planning to go with you,” Victoria says with a chuckle. “I can watch from a crystal ball if I can borrow some of your hair.”

Max nods again and Victoria produces a pair of scissors from her satchel, snipping off a little lock and binding it with a blue ribbon. “I promise I’ll only use this with your permission,” Victoria says.

“I trust you.”

Victoria smiles at that. “That’s not something I ever expected to hear.”

Max squeezes her tight. “You’re a good person, Victoria. Don’t forget that.”

“Chloe doesn’t think so.”

“Maybe I can change her mind.”

Victoria snorts. “Please, Max. Didn’t you know this girl? Does she usually change her mind?”

“I could usually make her. If I argued enough.”

Victoria raises an eyebrow. “You really must’ve been her best friend.”

“...I was,” Max sighs, looking away. “A long time ago.”

They head back inside, Victoria leaving Max with a kiss in front of Chloe’s door. Max steadies herself. She’s the only one that Chloe hasn’t physically harmed since she came here last night. Hopefully, Max can keep that streak up. She takes a breath and knocks.

Nothing. She tries again. “Chloe?”

“Yeah?” comes back, sounding a little odd, but not hostile, at least.

Max clears her throat. “C-can I come in? We should talk. For real. Just you and me.”

It seems to take an eternity for Chloe to respond, but finally Max hears, “Yeah, sure. Come in.”

Max opens the door to find Chloe lying on her back on the bed, staring into the ceiling with unfocused eyes. She shifts onto her elbows as Max walks in, frowning. “You feel weird,” she says, squinting.

“Huh?” Max says, stopping in her tracks.

“Your aura. It’s weird. It’s got, like...edges.” Chloe waves her hand.

“Oh!” Primal sense. Right. No hiding anything from her. “It’s — Victoria didn’t want me coming in here alone without some protection.”

“Victoria.” Chloe’s mouth curls into a sneer. “Surprised she didn’t just throw you to me. Isn’t it your risk to take, talking to the bugfuck crazy sorceress? Why would she care?”

“Chloe, I know she—she was cruel, at Blackwell. She told me so, but she really does care about — about me. She’s not the same girl she was back then.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, but doesn’t seem to be able to come up with an argument, and just falls back flat again. There’s a moment of silence before Chloe says, “So what did you wanna talk about?”

“I wanted—”

“Stop standing there all awkward and get up on the bed. This feels weird.”

Max takes a moment to look over Chloe. Her eyes are still unfocused, following something on the ceiling that isn’t there. “Chloe, are you okay?” she asks, slowly sliding onto the bed and sitting on the edge.

In response, Chloe turns her head and flashes her teeth at Max, stained red with some sort of paste. “Doin’ _just fine_ , Max,” she replies. “Found some good stuff in Victor’s vault.”

 _Oh._ Things click together in Max’s head. Well, if it calms her down...there’s really no harm, is there? Chloe actually looks...sort of happy. In a way.

Chloe looks back at the ceiling. “Never took this much before. It’s kinda cool. Like, oh, look, there you are, falling into the lake at the edge of town...your parents are losing their minds.” She chuckles. “Anyway. You wanted to talk about something?”

“I...” Max swallows. This feels wrong, talking to her in this state, but it might be the only chance Max is going to have. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. For not talking to you for all those years. I wanted to, I just...I couldn’t figure out what to say.”

“Mmm.” Chloe purses her lips, and Max wonders what she’s seeing, what she might be reliving.

“I wish I’d been there when you started developing your powers. That must’ve been...” Max grasps for the words, but Chloe speaks up first.

“It sucked. But not just ‘cuz you weren’t there. My mom...she married a real asshole. Had a big old burn scar on his face from some fight with some warlock’s pet.” Chloe shudders, closing her eyes. “He used to hit me.”

Max shifts so she’s cross-legged on the bed, facing Chloe’s prone body. She touches Chloe’s shoulder. “Chloe—”

“I needed you, Max. I needed someone.” Chloe sniffs. “I started...when my powers started coming in, he stopped hitting me, he was too scared. But he still...he called me worthless and stupid and lazy and I fought back, and it just made everything worse, so I started...” She traces the inside of her wrist, still squeezing her eyes shut. “I burned myself.”

Max’s eyes widen, remembering the cuts on Victoria’s wrists.

“That’s when Rachel...she saw it, one day in school. She healed me. Then we were...I don’t know. She saved me. And now she’s gone, just like you.”

“I had no idea,” Max says softly. “I swear, I wanted to talk to you, I still wanted to be your friend, I never had anyone else like you for so long, but—”

“What about Vicky?” Chloe interrupts, turning on her side. “You two seem pretty close.”

“W-we are.” No use lying. “But still, I just — you were hurting so much. I thought about...what I would say if I saw you again, and I had no idea what that could be, so I just kept thinking and thinking about it until it was...too late.”

“Step-shit stole the ball from me, anyway,” Chloe admits. “And then I smashed it when I found it.” She winces, like she can hear it shattering.

“I’m still sorry,” Max says.

“I coulda used it anytime, too. I just...fuck, it’s stupid, but I wanted you to talk first. I thought it might mean...someone cared about me.” Chloe turns away and curls up into the fetal position.

“I did, Chloe, I swear. I still do.”

“I believe you.”

Max blinks. That seemed...easy, compared to the way Chloe’s been rampaging around the house.

“I mean, why else would you even bother coming in here to talk to me? You could be like everyone else in this shitty place, but you’re not.” Chloe rolls over and faces the ceiling again. “You should get out of here. You don’t belong here. You’re too nice. Go home.”

“Chloe, they’re — they’re not so bad. Even Victor, he’s...okay, he’s a controlling asshole. But he does care about Victoria. He’s just really bad at showing it.”

Chloe shrugs. “I think you’re giving people a lot of credit, but fine. Whatever.” She digs in the pocket of her dress and produces a handful of red nuts, staring at them as she sits up. She rolls one between her thumb and forefinger, looking pensive. “Thanks, Max. I’m glad you came by, but...” She sighs. “I dunno what you want out of it. I’m leaving as soon as I get this spell cast. You won’t see me again.”

“Chloe—”

“So just...you shouldn’t get close to me. All I do is hurt people. I’ll be out of your life soon.”

“Chloe, I don’t want that to happen again. You can’t just—”

“Done it before. I’ll do it again,” Chloe states. She sighs again. “Look, Max. Maybe we can talk later. Right now, I’m gonna have a couple more of these and try and relax for a while. Kay?”

“Oh. Um. Sure. Should I...go?” Max doesn’t want to sound desperate, but things had been going _so well._ Chloe’s calm! She’s talking! She still likes Max, despite everything!

“Up to you, but...” Chloe grunts. “Whatever. Just go hang with _Victoria,_ since she’s so awesome.” The notes of anger from last night and this morning are creeping back into Chloe’s voice, and Max knows it’s time to leave.

She gets up off the bed as Chloe starts chewing. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” she says as she opens the door.

Chloe gives her a shrug, but that’s enough. For now.

She closes the door behind her head down to Victoria’s room, finding her standing up in front of her desk as the crystal ball fades from an image of Max back into fog. “How’d it go?” she asks.

“I don’t think she hates me anymore,” Max replies.

“Just don’t...” Victoria purses her lips.

“Just what?”

“Nothing.” Victoria takes her hand and tugs her away. “Come on. I’m sure my father will kill someone if we don’t work on your aura a _little_ today.”

 

* * *

 

It turns into a bit of a routine, like when Max was first getting to know Victoria. She comes by after breakfast, while Chloe’s on her first dose, and the two of them can talk about everything that happened to them over the years, and remember old times. Max learns about adventures with Rachel, fights with Chloe’s parents, learns about Rachel’s spellcrafting and all the little rituals she did to impress Chloe, and she can’t help but feel a little jealous. Chloe, for her part, asks how Max got here, how her family’s doing. It hurts Max’s chest to think about how Joyce is probably dead, but she does suggest looking for her to Chloe once. Chloe turns it over in her mind for a while, then takes her second dose.

Max spends the rest of her time with Victoria, even though Victoria seems a little more distant than before. Max hopes it’s just nerves. She still gets the protective spell every time she goes to see Chloe, but it’s more of a ritual between them than anything else. Max kisses her after it, every time. She doesn’t want Victoria to feel she’s unimportant, it’s just...it’s hard to imagine losing Chloe again.

Victor stays almost completely out of sight. He speaks very rarely, and only when absolutely necessary. Whatever he’s working on, he doesn’t seem interested in trying to teach Max this week.

Chloe still doesn’t talk to anyone but Max. She seems to be slipping further and further away from the rage-fueled woman who nearly killed three people in twelve hours, but she’s also slipping further and further away from herself as Max tries to reach her. She’ll lapse into long periods where she doesn’t seem to hear Max, doesn’t want to answer her questions, losing herself in the memory fog. Max holds her hand and tries to keep her tethered through these moments, but watching her blank face gives her goosebumps.

Two days before the Delegation is to arrive, Chloe comes out of one of her dazes and says, “You asked where I got the charm before.”

Max perks up. “Uh, yeah, why—”

“When I found Rachel’s body, I ran off into the Wilds. I wanted something to kill me. Nothing did. For four months.” Chloe sits up, fingering the charm around her neck. “I was...changing. Not, like, even into anything normal, I was a _freak._ I had scales, feathers, claws, all this...this random shit. I thought I was gonna turn, really turn into a monster. And then I...I found this girl. Out in the middle of nowhere.” She runs a hand through her hair. “A druid.”

Max’s eyes widen. “B-but, where—”

“She brought me back. Did all kinds of things to help purge the corruption.” Chloe doesn’t even seem like she’s in this room anymore, so Max shuts up and lets her tell her story. “We...we got close. She took me back to Arcadia to see if anything was left, and nothing was. That night, s—she...” Chloe gulps. “She told me about the spell. And then she kissed me. And then I left.”

Max feels a chill run down her spine. “D-did you...I mean, did you feel like that towards her?”

“Yeah. Of course I did.” Chloe grinds her palm into her eyes.

“Then why—”

“Because I’m a fucking asshole, all right? Because I—I still wanted to die, after everything she did for me, and she shouldn’t have _fucking—”_ Chloe pounds her fist into the covers. “I just wanted her to be okay, and for that to happen she couldn’t — do what Rachel did.”

Chloe slumps over and cradles her head in her hands. “The druids are coming soon anyway. I was trying — I don’t know. I didn’t want to screw up other people’s lives. I wanted to get this done and go away. And now I just barged in here and ruined everything.”

“You didn’t—”

“Bullshit, Max. Don’t lie to me, all right? You and Victoria...” Chloe rolls over on her side. “You and her would be happier without me here. If I’d just died in Arcadia.”

“Chloe...” Max swallows, trying to think of something to say that won’t make Chloe even angrier. “Chloe, I was so...uncertain about you, ever since I heard the news. Knowing you’re alive, even with all this mess to deal with, it’s...it’s a good thing.”

“Did you ever like me?”

Max blinks. “What?”

“I know you and Vic are together. It’s...honestly, dude, it’s real fuckin’ obvious. But...” Chloe curls further into herself. “When we were kids, I—I liked you. A lot. And when you left, I thought it was because you knew, and you thought it was gross and fucked-up and—”

“I didn’t know,” Max says quickly, a flush coming to her cheeks.

“Well.” Chloe swallows. “Did you?”

Max has to think about that for a minute. Now that she knows she does like women, could she have...? As a kid? Was that why it felt so awkward to leave her alone, why she felt so bad, why she couldn’t just talk to Chloe? But...

“I don’t know,” Max replies. “I—Chloe, I’m with Victoria now, it doesn’t—”

“Yeah. You’re right. Fuck it, I’m sorry for even asking.” Chloe digs in her dress. “I—Just go, Max, I feel like such an asshole right now.”

“Chloe—”

But Chloe’s already taking it. Max reaches out and touches her shoulder, but Chloe’s gone, staring at nothing again. Max wants to make it right, but...she doesn’t know when Chloe will be back. Or if she’ll even want to talk. Ever again.

 

* * *

 

That doesn’t stop Max from coming back the next day, just to check in. She gets no response to her knock. Or her second, or her third. She fumes in front of the door for a moment, thinking. She needs to make this right, and she needs Chloe to be all right, to be calm and measured when the Delegation gets here so that things can go smoothly.

Gritting her teeth, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Max slowly turns the doorknob and peers in. There’s Chloe, lying on her bed, like usual. But something’s off. Something is very wrong.

Chloe’s mouth lies open, a thin red mist spilling out of it. Her eyes dart back and forth rapidly, bloodshot and frantic. Max rushes to her side and feels her pulse, slow, weak.

Something whispers in Max’s mind. A voice she hasn’t heard since the night Chloe appeared. A bone-chilling laugh, and then:

_She’s mine now._


	6. The Enemy Within Yourself

Victoria knows what’s wrong even before Max slams open the door to Chloe’s room and calls for help. She saw what Max saw, staring through her crystal ball, still watching. Just to make sure, that’s what she’s been telling herself. That Max is safe. Nothing else. This isn’t spying, this is watching. And right now she’s watching Max clutch at her hair, calling for Victor and Victoria.

Victoria quickly gets up and ends the spell with a word, leaving her room and running down the hall. Her father emerges ahead of her from the steps, and the two of them arrive simultaneously to find Max at Chloe’s bedside, begging Chloe to wake up. Victoria stares, her fists clenched at her sides. On the one hand, this is good, perfect, brilliant. Chloe will be gone and Max will be hers and only hers again, and Victoria will be free of the nightmares that tell her Chloe is more important to Max, free of the constant thought of that this week is a repeat of Max and Victoria's courtship. On the other, Max’s tears, her desperation, claw at Victoria’s chest.

“What’s wrong with her?” Max pleads, looking to Victor first as he clasps his hands, a strange expression on his face.

“She did what she was going to do,” he says plainly. “Fate told me the night after she arrived. _She will give herself to me._ Why do you think I kept putting out more augurnut?”

“What?!” Max asks, her eyes widening. “Y-you _knew_ —”

“I told you that all magic is an exchange between humanity and the gods, Maxine,” Victor says. “Fate wants her. Her power is a threat to her vision of destiny and she finds the new god a disruption. If Fate claims her soul, the Progenitor will lose their only current tie to the physical world and be almost entirely unable to affect the future. Oracles are not just passive recipients of Fate’s knowledge. We are also her agents. I will be rewarded well for this.”

Max is gaping at Victor, open-mouthed, but at the last sentence her face twists into a mask of anger. “You’re letting my friend _kill herself_ just so you can get a little more time with—”

“It is a mutually beneficial act, Maxine,” Victor snaps. “Your ‘friend’ has been nothing but disruption and danger. Removing her from the world is doing everyone a favor. She is far too powerful and unstable to be wandering about unleashed. It’s better this way.”

“You can’t do this! You can’t just sit here and let her die!” Max shouts.

“I can and I will.” Victor folds his arms. “She destroyed herself. All I did was provide the tools. I have no reason to let her continue tearing my estate apart.”

Max snarls, but her gaze turns to Victoria. “Victoria, help me. You must know, you _have to know,_ how to fix her, how to—”

“Absolutely not,” Victor interrupts. “The both of you will do _nothing_ to compromise the work I’ve done for Fate. Chloe Price is going to stay right where she is until Fate takes her soul from her body, and then she’ll be fed to the Wilds exactly as she deserves.” Victoria’s never heard such venom from her father before. Anger is one thing, but this sheer hate _..._

“Victoria, please,” Max begs.

Victor’s eyes turn and bore into Victoria, and she can’t. Not here. Not like Max, she’s not as strong as Max. She can’t stand up to him, she never could, not to his face. She shrinks. She stares at the floor.

“I can’t, Max.”

“That’s _bullshit!_ ” Max objects, and Victor slaps her across the face. Victoria freezes, her body tensing as she hears Max cry out.

“That’s enough,” he says plainly. “You need to grow up. This is the world of an Oracle. Your attachment to this woman is a weakness that could easily get you, and others, killed. If you looked at her with the eyes of an Oracle instead of a little girl, you’d see that this is the only way to maintain order. Think about that. In your room.” Victor points out the door. “Your meals will be brought to you. Abernathy will guard your room. I will not let you interfere with my plans.”

“Fuck both of you,” Max mutters, with a hateful glare at both Victor and Victoria. Victoria feels a stabbing in her gut.

“Watch your tongue. I would be happy to send you home if you don’t start _behaving._ ”

Silently, Max pushes past him and storms down the hall. Victoria squeezes her hands closed and tries not to cry. No weakness in front of Father. Not ever.

Victor sighs. “Thank you for not indulging her,” he says curtly. “This is the way things have to be.”

Victoria stares at Chloe’s still form, the red mist rising from her mouth, her eyes frantically darting as if tracking a swarm of locusts. She knows how this will end. Will Max forgive her? Will she understand that Victoria can’t defy her father so openly, will she ever be able to trust Victoria if she does nothing?

She should do nothing. Like Father says. It’s the right thing, isn’t it? No more competition for Max. No more fears of her blood boiling in her veins. Just her and Max and Victor, like it was before, when things were so promising.

But that would just prove that Victoria’s the same person she was at Blackwell. The one who tore down all her enemies with hatred and curses. The one who stepped all over other people to get what she wanted. And Max didn’t fall in love with that Victoria. And Max never would have.

So she lets herself be lead out of the room by her father. But she promises herself: _I won’t lose Max._ And that leaves her only one course of action.

 

* * *

 

Victoria studies the concoction swirling in the pot. It shimmers faintly as she stirs, turning into a true white glow once she adds the salt and powdered shell of cicada. The cold air of the alchemy lab deep under the estate bites at her skin, but she’s so close to completing the first part of this plan. She’d forgotten how _long_ alchemy takes since her time at Blackwell, but it suits the timeline just fine. If she’s lucky.

She takes a moment to reflect on the irony before she takes a vial from the racks on the walls and fills it with Somnar’s Remedy, carefully avoiding touching the liquid. She lifts the pot off of the fire and lets it cool, capping the vial and putting it in her dress. She takes the jar of salt as well before she heads upstairs, stuffing it into her satchel. It’s a good thing Father isn’t interested in really watching her. He thinks she’s as broken as she’s always been. But even if her rebellions are never as visible as Max’s, Victoria’s tired of being his slave.

She heads to the kitchen next. Waiting for the kettle to boil isn’t quite as agonizing as brewing the potion but it still feels like too much after those long hours in the cold damp dark. But a cup of tea is made, and a vial is poured into it, and Victoria brings it upstairs on a saucer looking like just the kindest and most wonderful little witch anyone could hope for. At least, that’s what she prays she looks like as she approaches Abernathy, sitting with his back against Max’s door.

“I thought you might like something to help you stay up,” Victoria lies, crouching down beside him. He takes the saucer and sighs gratefully.

“Thanks, kid.” He takes a sip and Victoria has to resist pumping her fist right now. She sits down next to him. “Gods, this is awful,” he says.

“Oh — sorry, did I—”

“Not the tea, you did fine,” Abernathy interjects. “I mean...this. This poor girl, she’s just been crying all day — between pounding at the door and trying to run past me, I mean. It’s not right. It doesn’t feel right.” He puts his head to his forehead. “I know Mister Chase has to make some sacrifices, but...” He takes another long drink of the tea. “Well. I suppose he has to do his job, and I have to do mine.”

Victoria nods and counts off the seconds, waiting for the god of dreams to do his job and not make her feel sorry for the captain of the guard. “Do you know why—” she begins, trying to kill time.

“He explained it to me. I...understand why he’s doing this. Sorcerers are dangerous. We’re told that from the second we get our marks. We can and should be... taken care of if we can’t control ourselves.” He pauses for a moment. “Still. Can’t help but feel sorry for that blue-haired girl. She’s just a kid. I coulda been her when I was younger. I was an angry young boy at one time, if you can believe it,” he adds with a slight smile at Victoria.

He clears his throat after a moment of silence, then finishes his tea. “Sorry for dumping all that on you. I shouldn’t — not really professional. But thanks for listening anyway. You wanna take this ba—” He pauses midsentence, his eyes suddenly fogging, swirling with mist. His body goes limp against the door.

“Sorry, Abernathy,” Victoria whispers as she drags him away from the door, then softly knocks. “Max?”

“Go away,” Max mumbles from the other side of the door.

“Max, we need to hurry.”

“What are you talking about,” Max says flatly.

Victoria cracks the door open. “If we want to save Chloe,” she whispers, looking into Max’s reddened eyes.

Max takes a moment, her eyes widening as Victoria cocks her head out the door. “B-but what about—”

“Abernathy’s out and my father’s in bed by now. Come _on,_ ” Victoria urges, opening the door the rest of the way. “We don’t have much time.”

Max scrambles off of her bed and rushes to Victoria, embracing her briefly. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Don’t thank me yet. Come on. Do you have your charm?”

Max looks around and finds her butterfly charm before rejoining Victoria. “Why do I need—”

“We need to get something from the Wilds.” Victoria taps the charm around her neck, a plain rock that she’d brought with her from the refugee caravan. “Let’s go.”

As they pass Abernathy, Max looks at him worriedly. “Is he — Victoria, did you—”

“He’s fine, he’s sleeping,” Victoria replies quickly, tired of questions because they need to _go._ She tugs at Max’s arm and leads her out the front door of the estate, running down the path until they reach the front gate. Victoria pulls two sapphires from her satchel and gives them a blue light with a simple incantation, passing one to Max as they stare out at the pitch blackness of the Sunless Forest.

“Okay,” Victoria breathes. “Max, you need to find four-leafed clovers, as many as you can. Call out to me every time you find one. They _should_ grow around here, but—”

“Victoria, what’s this? What are we doing?” Max asks, squeezing Victoria’s arm.

Victoria sighs. As great as Max is, she could stand to reign in her damned curiosity once in  a while. But if this’ll get her to start looking, then Victoria will explain. Quickly.

“Okay, Max. So, what’s happening to Chloe — it can happen to any caster who works only in one domain for too long. Since every time you cast you give up a piece of your soul to the gods, if you give enough of yourself to one god without spreading it around, they can — get a grip on you,” Victoria says. “Every time you eat augurnut, you’re doing the same thing, and Chloe ate a _lot._ Her soul’s fighting to stay here but Fate will take her by dawn. The only way to stop a premature ascension like this is to make the gods fight over her and give her space to reorient her soul in the mortal plane.”

“So we’re—”

Victoria doesn’t have time for followup questions, so she continues, “To do _that_ , we need to bring her to the attention of Fate’s opposite, her rival in the pantheon. That’s Chance.”

“I haven’t heard of that god,” Max admits.

“He’s not exactly a popular guy,” Victoria replies. “The other gods don’t like him and he’s a real pain for shapers to work with. We’ve only managed to convince him to agree to one spell, Chance’s Gaze, which just means he looks at someone’s life and affects their luck — one way or the other, whichever way...he decides. Four-leaf clovers are his mark on the Wilds, like augurnut is Fate’s. We need a crown of them to put on Chloe’s head before we can perform the ritual, and then Chance will have a piece of Chloe’s soul to wrestle with and Chloe will be able to pull away from Fate. Okay? Got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.” Max hugs herself. “Sorry for not just trusting you, but I needed to...to know. What we’re doing.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Four-leaf clovers.”

“Let’s go.”

Victoria opens the gate with a few careful touches of the gems placed within it, and they head into the Sunless Forest, their gems lighting the way as they crawl through the undergrowth, checking each clover in every patch. Victoria’s dress is getting filthy and dirt is caked under her fingernails but they have to do this, dammit, they have to.

It takes a very, very long time. Werewolves stalk around them, their yellow eyes flashing in and out of sight as they work, as they search, further and further away from the estate. They won’t approach, Victoria knows, but the hairs stand up on the back of her neck anyway as she recalls the claw marks on the few who made it into the temporary barriers during Arcadia’s fall. They wait for vulnerabilities that won’t come. Not at long as the charm dangles from her neck. She has to repeat that to herself, especially when a monstrous bat comes and sinks its teeth into one and it screams into the night.

They call out to each other with each one they find, until at last the count reaches twenty and they find each other again, linking hands in the dark and sprinting for the estate grounds. Victoria leads them into Chloe’s room, spreading a line of salt in the doorway as Max sits at the desk by the window, clovers in hand. With a word and a few carefully applied touches to the door, a solid white barrier surrounds it. Victoria tries the door, and finds it locked in place.

“That’ll keep him out if Fate decides to warn him,” Victoria says as she comes over to Max. She ties the stems together with shaking hands by the light of the candle on the desk. A tear drops to the wood as Chloe’s haggard breath fills the room. Victoria puts her hands on Max’s shoulders in alarm. “Max?”

“I-it’s just...” Max sniffs, a wet laugh coming suddenly up from her throat. “I—I remember one day when we were kids and I made t-this flower crown for her, just because I wanted to, a-and now I’m...” She wipes her eyes and tries to focus on the task at hand.

Victoria rubs her shoulders, knowing she should set up the rest of the ritual but needing Max to be steady, to be calm. This will work. It has to work. Max’s breathing slows after a while, and her hands stop shaking. The crown is halfway complete by the time Victoria moves to Chloe’s bedside and opens her coinpurse. Okay. Gold in the mouth. She has to clamp Chloe’s mouth around the coin, teeth clacking on it, the ever-thinning stream of red pouring around it. Silver on the eyes. She closes Chloe’s eyes for her, and it makes her look a little less unnerving, a little more at peace. A little more dead.

 _No._ Not tonight. Chloe will live. For Max’s sake.

Max stands up, and Victoria props Chloe against the headboard so that the crown will stay on her head. Victoria pulls one last coin from her purse and stares at it, cinched between her thumb and forefinger.

“You can do this,” Max says softly, taking Victoria’s other hand. “I know you can.”

Victoria closes her eyes and recalls the incantation from memory. She speaks it aloud, perfectly, the divine language flowing out of her like she’s a native speaker. On the last word, she flips the coin.

It sails through the air and Victoria bites her lip. She didn’t tell Max the rules of Chance’s Gaze. The change in Chloe’s luck depends on how the coin lands.

It falls onto Chloe’s chest. Heads.

The crown explodes into colorful light, spraying tiny scraps of confetti all over the bed. The coins on Chloe’s face rise into the air, spinning wildly as a harrowing maniacal laugh echoes through the room. They fly behind her ears and vanish, and Chloe suddenly takes in an enormous gasp, red mist forming in the air and rushing into her body as she spasms and shivers against the headboard. Max hugs Victoria, eyes wide as she watches Chloe’s body react.

Someone pounds uselessly at the door. “What are you doing?!” Victor demands as Chloe’s body settles back down, mouth closing, breath settling into a natural sleeping rhythm.

“Saving a life,” Victoria says.

“How _dare_ you defy me, Victoria—”

“It’s already done.” Victoria feels a swell of pride in her chest. “You lost. And you’re not getting through that door tonight, so why don’t you go right back to bed, father?”

“The minute this barrier goes down I will come in there and teach you _both_ what it means to disobey me,” Victor threatens, but Victoria hears no more from him. She embraces Max, resting her head on her shoulder, sighing with relief, shaking with fear. Victor could do anything to her. But she’s kept Max. And that’s what matters.

Max pulls away. “When will she wake up?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Victoria admits. “But she will.”

“Thank you so much.” Max embraces her again. “You’re really amazing, Victoria.”

“I just...” Victoria swallows. Is this a lie? Or is it really her? “I just did the right thing.”

“You did.”

They pull the chair from the desk and put it next to the bed, beside the reading chair, and fall into silence. Max eventually rests her head on Victoria’s lap, and before long she’s peacefully sleeping there, Victoria running her fingers through her hair, watching Chloe, waiting for her to come back.

It’s only when thin blue light starts streaming in through the window that Chloe stirs, groaning as she puts her hand over her eyes. “Fuck,” is the first word out of her mouth, and Victoria quickly shushes her, pointing at Max. Chloe stares at the both of them.

“What the...what happened?” she asks. “I was...I was out, I was falling through my life, I was—”

“You were dying,” Victoria whispers. “I saved you.”

Chloe looks down at the little scraps of confetti still covering her body. “Uh. Wow. Shit. Did you really? The fuck did you do that for?”

“My father wanted Fate to take you. Max didn’t.”

“And you?” Chloe squints at her distrustfully.

“If it had just been my father and I, you would be dead.” Victoria needs to set the record straight with Chloe. So this is how she has to talk. “You were dangerous. My father’s right about that. But Max...I want to be the woman she thinks I am. And that means I wouldn’t let you die on my watch. No matter what our past is.”

“Yeah, she has that effect on people, doesn’t she?” Chloe says, chuckling and looking down at Max. “But you—I just...”

“I know what I did at Blackwell was horrible. What I did to Rachel. But I did it because...I wasn’t lying to you, that night you—”

“Oh shit, I left a mark,” Chloe remarks, pointing at Victoria’s face.

“Yes, you did,” Victoria says through grit teeth. Dammit. Glamour must’ve worn off. “But _as I was saying_ , Rachel and I — we were involved. She was blackmailing me to get to my parents’ resources.”

“With what?” Chloe scoffs. “Weren’t you, like, a model student?”

“I couldn’t cast spells. At all.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Really.”

“She taught me how. She told me to think about her. Now I think about Max.” Victoria idly rubs Max’s head.

Chloe lays her head back on the pillow. “Can’t say I really believe you, Vic. But, fuck it. You saved my life. For whatever that’s worth.” She lets out a long sigh. “You take good care of Max.”

“I will,” Victoria says.

“I meant that you already are.”

That shouldn’t make Victoria smile like an idiot. It shouldn’t feel like any big compliment. But the thought that she might really be worth something to Max after all...It works for her.

Chloe lifts the covers over herself and nestles in. “I’m fucking tired. If your shit-ass dad comes in here, though, I’ll teach him not to mess with you two. Just...shout or something.”

Victoria nods. She closes her eyes, and lets the exhaustion she’s been keeping at bay finally take her. She dreams of Max.


	7. Deserted

Kate nearly collapses when she finally sees civilization again.

It’s been a long, slow journey back to Sealth, back to the Druidic Enclave on the northernmost side of the city, but as she emerges from the woods and steps over the line of the wards she wants to just fall to her knees right there and sleep. The stone monoliths that surround Fortan’s Hall shine their faint glow onto her form in the dark, pouring out of the runes etched into their surfaces. Kate’s back aches under the weight of her tent and pack, but she has to walk just a few more steps.

 _Towards what?_ she thinks suddenly, stopping in her tracks, staring at the candlelit windows of the enclave. Blackwell’s gone, and how else is she going to get her footing in the wider world? Is she really doing this? Slinking back to her family after losing everything out in the Wilds? She lost Blackwell, without even knowing it. And then she lost the only thing that had given her some direction in her life, some purpose.

She tries not to think about Chloe too much, because it hurts. It makes her chest tight and her eyes water. But whenever she set down her tent and settled down for the night, she missed a warm presence by her side, missed the quiet company in the early morning, missed the extra pair of eyes to watch the Wilds with her.

The worst is when she thinks of that final night. Tangled in Chloe’s limbs, their lips meeting, Kate’s heart full of hope and fear. It had felt so _right._ Like that was what the gods meant for them, all along, since Chloe first stumbled into the woods near Kate’s protective circle.

And then Chloe was gone.

Kate shudders and hugs herself. How can she talk about any of this? How can she explain where she was to her family, why she’s such a total wreck? She knows it’ll be so hard to talk. Just thinking about it makes her want to just run back into the Wilds and never come back. But she knows how it feels to be abandoned like that, to not know where someone you love has gone.

She takes a deep breath and keeps walking. It’s not far to her family’s house from here. Once she’s on the main roads, she can feel her burden getting heavier and heavier, the prospect of sleeping in a real bed and not having to set up this gods-forsaken tent again only making it harder to bear the weight. Focus on that. Nothing else.

She wanders between the old wooden houses with their carefully tended gardens out in front, their little blessed stones keeping away insects and vermin. Hers sits at the end of a road with the fields stretched out behind it, the crops probably already harvested and stored for the winter. She’d forgotten how big it was, two stories and far wider than the road itself, almost enough to hide the farm. A light still flickers behind the front door, smoke streaming from the chimney. Kate pauses, gathers her will, and knocks.

She hears footsteps approaching and thanks the heavens for that much, because she’s not sure she could stand any more work to get into her own home tonight. The door swings open, and a tall man with dark hair stands silhouetted against the firelight spilling out into the hallway behind him. He’s clad in traditional druid wear, a long brown robe stopping just above his bare feet, a stone charm with a cross design etched onto it slung around his neck. Their eyes meet.

“Katie!” he cries, wrapping her in a hug immediately and almost lifting her off of her feet. “Thank Fortan, we were so worried after we heard about Arcadia, but nobody wanted to send anyone into the Wilds and the Delegation politics are _insane_ right now—”

“It’s all right, Dad,” Kate replies, hugging him back and uttering a sigh of relief. “I’m home.”

As they pull apart, her father looks her up and down. “Did you...how did you know to come back?” He speaks like he knows the answer already.

Kate clams up. Should she tell him the truth? That she knew even before she went to Arcadia? How can she explain her months with Chloe? Should she bother? It probably doesn’t even matter. Kate will never see Chloe again.

Her chest tightens. Her eyes water. Her father takes her hand and nods silently. He knows part of the story already; doubtless he figured it would happen that Kate would find her way to Arcadia, find the ruins, and return home for lack of any other option. That will work as the story, she supposes. No need to share her failures with her family.

Her father leads her into the living room and helps her take off her pack in silence, stashing it in a corner before giving her another great big hug. “I missed you,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry that...that nothing worked out like you planned.”

Kate sniffles into his shoulder. This isn’t the way this was supposed to go, but talking is so, so hard right now. Such a long journey alone makes the voice grow weak, she supposes. And her father demands nothing of her, sitting down on the sofa with his tea and his book.

“Going straight to bed? You look exhausted,” he says. Kate nods. “Goodnight, Katie. Everyone will be so thrilled to have you back tomorrow.” He gives her a soft smile, and she tries to give him one back but it probably doesn’t work.

She heads upstairs, retracing the path to her own room by muscle memory more than anything. She flops into her bed and curls up.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

Fantasies in Chloe’s arms about this night come back to her and stab through her ribs. Introducing her family to Chloe. Telling them about the idea to bring back Rachel and unravel the mystery of Arcadia. Sleeping with Chloe in this bed, maybe after some more kissing, _living_ with Chloe instead of just surviving. Helping her. Seeing her through to her full potential, with all that power she had.

Her pillow’s wet by the time she falls unconscious, exhausted and drained. There seems to be nothing in the future to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

Kate heads down to the breakfast table the next day full of nerves. She knows they’ll ask questions. Knows that they have to start coming up with new plans for her life now that everything’s been thrown into chaos. All she wants is rest, but she knows that won’t come, and that it’d be pointless anyway. Her experiences in the Wilds or Arcadia won’t suddenly stop existing if she takes the month to recover. All they can do is fester.

“Kate!” her littlest sister cries as soon as she enters the kitchen, rushing forward and hugging her around the waist. “You’re back!”

Kate rubs Lynn’s back, smiling softly just before another sister grabs her from behind, setting off a chain of giggles. Not alone, not in this house, not ever. Right. She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing between them.

“They really missed you,” her mother informs her as she sets the table. Something spiced and wonderful drifts from the pot on the woodburning stove as Marie lets go of Kate and circles around to the front, grinning.

“I knew you’d make it back,” Marie states, folding her arms. “Lynn was all freaked out, but I _told_ her you knew what you were doing out there.”

“She always liked the Wilds a bit too much,” Kate’s mother says, setting out their meals for them as Lynn lets go of Kate. “Remember when she brought that Alice back?

Kate smiles at the memory, finding that poor naked little thing, already starting to grow claws and black growths on its back, holding it against her charm as it screamed and writhed, walking back towards the wards. Watching it grow into a lovely little black-and-white creature, probably still in her paddock out back. She remembers watching its claws fall off, and then remembers the sound of Chloe tearing one of her own straight off of her hand, and her smile dissipates as she sits down for breakfast.

Her father comes down to join them, sitting across from Kate at the table and clearing his throat. “So, Katie,” he begins, “I know this might be a little early after you just came out of the Wilds, but...”

“Richard, are you serious?” her mother interrupts. “We talked about this last night, she’s far too young to—”

“Let her decide, Debbie,” Richard says gently.

“What? Let me decide on what?” Kate asks.

“The Delegation’s sending a party to the Chase Estate tomorrow,” Richard explains. “The Oracle has been a bit...squirrely, lately, sending us letters that don’t make a whole lot of sense. I know how much you wanted to be an ambassador for our people, reaching out to the wider Witchdom...I thought you might want to come along, and maybe help keep the peace.”

Debbie starts off with, “Richard, honestly, give the girl a break, she must have been through so much—”

“I’ll go,” Kate says immediately.

Debbie looks at her incredulously. “You don’t want to—to stay here with the family for a few days? We’ve all missed you—”

“There’s no point in...in waiting around. Even if I just come along to watch...it’s better than doing nothing.” Because doing nothing means reliving everything. Having nothing to focus on will always bring her back, like at night.

Richard gives her a big smile. “That’s my girl. It’ll be a good experience for you. Plus you’ll get to meet some, uh, interesting new members of the Delegation.” He chuckles to himself. “Very interesting indeed...”

 

* * *

 

Kate screams the instant she sees the most ‘interesting’ new member.

It lumbers around one of the caravan wagons, bigger than a horse, black scales shining in the morning light, its wings pinned against its back. The dragon’s spiny head swivels towards her, and it almost looks like the cursed thing is _smiling_ at her. Kate takes a step back, directly into her father’s chest. He puts his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s all right, Kate,” he says softly. “Look at the eyes.”

Kate does, and they’re not the single-colored blank slates of a true monster. They’re not human eyes, either, more like a cat’s than anything else, green with slit pupils. The dragon stops and sits back on its hind legs, as though trying to show it’s not a threat, which is honestly more unnerving than if it had ignored her entirely. But it raises its chin, and Kate can see a small bear-claw charm looped around its neck.

A man with a scruffy brown beard rushes up to the beast, grabbing it by one of the horns on its head. “Pompidou!” he exclaims, yanking it down to his eye-level. “Are you scaring girls again?”

The dragon — _Pompidou?_ — makes a grumbling noise at him and slinks down, lowering its head. “Be nice,” the man tells it, patting it behind the ears before starting to approach Kate. “Hey, sorry about that, he’s a bit of a shit sometimes. You must be Rich’s kid,” he says, sticking out a hand. “Frank Bowers.”

 _Bowers._ The name strikes a chord somewhere in Kate’s mind. “Kate,” she says as her father steps out from behind her.

“Frank’s a bit of a celebrity,” Richard informs her. “People are calling him the Hero of Arcadia.”

“Eeeeeeh,” Frank says, shrugging. “I was just the only druid in town, that’s all. I did what I could. Honestly, this Delegation gig is pretty good, though. Pompidou’s way more interesting than my ‘heroism.’” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the dragon. “He’s sort of disproving like six different theories about corruption.”

“I’m going to go and talk to the Elder,” Richard says. “Don’t wander too far, Kate.”

Kate nods as Richard separates himself from the two of them, and then she peers around Frank to see Pompidou approaching one of the caravan horses, sniffing it cautiously. The horse barely seems fazed. “How did you tame him?”

“Found him out in the Wilds when I was traveling to Arcadia. Just a little thing. We know that human corruptions can have kids, right, like, things that were never human and they won’t advance in corruption, they’re just — you know, monsters. We used to think those were always corrupt, but I found this guy half still in his egg, so I thought, why not try a little experiment?” Frank snaps his fingers. “Pompidou! Over here!”

The dragon bounds up to them and stops at a respectful distance, letting Frank scratch him under the chin. “Gave him a charm and had him hang out with me for a while. He stopped growing when he was about the size of a dog before, but his eyes went _un-blank._ He became...I don’t know. Not human, not even close, but he’s not some crazy beast, either. When the wards went down, I thought, that’s it, he’ll kill me, but he resisted it just like any other animal and stayed sane until we could give him a charm. He, uh, grew a lot more without the wards on him for a while, though.” Frank chuckles. “As you can see.”

“Can you ride him?” Kate asks.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Wanna try?”

“What?”

“Come on, give it a shot. Pomp, down,” he says, and the dragon flattens itself against the ground. “Hold onto his horns.”

Kate carefully climbs on, nerves buzzing in her stomach, but this is the most amazing thing! A creature usually thought of as pure evil, brought back to be — well, just another animal!

“He likes you,” Frank says as Pompidou suddenly rises back to his full four-legged height, chuffing. “I was worried he’d throw you off, not gonna lie.”

Kate laughs nervously. “I think I have a way with Wilds creatures...” _Or do you?_ her mind asks, bringing back a memory of waking up alone, and she goes quiet for a time. But Frank’s willing to keep talking, about his adventures gathering components out in the Wilds, and Kate finds him easy and interesting to listen to even as the caravan gets underway and he joins her on Pompidou’s back.

Kate asks questions about his time in the Wilds, his buisnesses, his new work with other corrupted creatures, trying to figure out if Fortan’s purifying magic kills them every time or if it’s dependent on other factors, but the one question that burns in her doesn’t come up until the caravan settles down for the night.

Just before Kate heads into her father’s tent, she stops and looks at Frank, sitting against his dragon’s belly as it curls up around him, sipping from a flask. She swallows, but she needs to know.

“Frank?” she asks, stepping over to him as the dragon starts to snore.

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever...know a girl named Chloe?”

His eyes widen. “Where did you — what? How do you know her, she used to buy stuff from me all the time!”

“I—I met her out in the Wilds,” Kate admits, sitting down against Pompidou’s tail and crossing her legs.

“Shit, I don’t remember seeing her that night,” Frank says, looking down. “Her stepdad and her mom...they were looking for her, but she never showed. I thought she was gone like everyone else. Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know,” Kate admits. “I tried to help her, I brought her back from...her transformation, but then she just left.”

Frank nods. “Chloe was kind of a wild card. You know how those fire-focuses are.”

Kate bites her lip and looks down. She’d hoped...but what would he know that she didn’t, really?

“She tell you anything about a girl called Rachel?” Frank asks suddenly, his eyes piercing once Kate meets them.

“Y-yeah,” Kate stutters. “S-she said she was dead.”

Frank deflates, sinking against black scales. “I guess I kinda knew. But...” He sighs. “You hold out hope sometimes, you know? Even after all that, even though I knew I took everyone with me that I could...”

“I’m sorry,” Kate says.

“Not your fault. You’re a sweet kid. Hope Chloe didn’t hurt you too bad.” He stands up. “I’m going to bed. Thanks for telling me anyway.”

Kate stays up a little longer, resting against Pompidou and hearing the sound of his rumbly breath. Strange to think that someone could bring a dragon out of the Wilds, but not Chloe.

 

* * *

 

 

They reach the golden spirals of the Chase Estate gate to find the Oracle himself already outside, pacing in front of them like he’s been there for hours. He’s a tall man, blonde and big, a cane clenched in his right hand as he looks up at the unusual party. He barely blinks an eye at Pompidou and the two druids riding on his back, instead focusing his attention on the Elder at the front of the group.

“You may leave your...animals in the front yard. They will be safe within the fence,” he states curtly, touching the gate’s lock in three places and letting it swing open. “I must bring your attention to the _problem_ currently residing in my estate. It seems a druid is all that can help me in this particular case.”

“What in the name of the gods is going on, Oracle?” the elder asks, folding her arms as the caravan shuffles in. “First you send us a letter telling us not to come due to a sorcerer tearing apart your estate, then you tell us everything’s been taken care of, and _now—”_

“My life has been considerably less ordered than I would like for the past week,” the Oracle says through grit teeth. Kate slides off of Pompidou, standing behind the Elder and peeking out at the Oracle. Even his glamour can’t hide how frazzled he looks. “Suffice to say that I have an unwanted intruder who demands your help and no others. The rest of the pleasantries can wait, you probably have what she wants. Please. Follow me.”

Kate appears totally unnoticed as the druids colonize the front yard, following directly behind the Elder, curiosity burning in her core. She doesn’t dare to hope. It can’t be her. And yet, what did they discuss, the night Chloe left? What was Chloe’s burning desire? Who else could cause the Oracle such trouble?

She follows the two of them through the estate, up a set of stairs and then down to what appears to be a guest room. A bright white barrier surrounds the door, a simple spell that Kate’s seen cast a few times, but enough to stop anyone from entering without wasting time on a dispel. The Oracle walks right up to the door and bangs his cane against it.

“The druids have arrived,” he shouts. “You can ask them your silly questions.”

A very familiar voice yells back, “Gimme a little proof, shitstain!”

Kate rushes up to the door and puts her hands against it. “Chloe?”

“What are you doing?” Chase snaps as the Elder tries to restrain her.

There’s silence behind the door for a time.

“How do you know—” Chase begins, but then there’s a flash.

The barrier lowers.

The door opens.


	8. In Memory's Arms

Chloe wakes before the other two, hunger gnawing at her stomach, her throat dry and hoarse. Right. A full day with your mouth open and totally unconscious does that to a person. With a groan, she sits up at looks over at Max with her head on Victoria’s lap, sleeping fitfully. Victoria herself looks peaceful, her hand on Max’s neck. It looks so intimate and...nice. If anyone was going to have Max, Chloe supposes there are worse than Victoria for the job. Besides, it’s not like Chloe’s been any better in that department for a good long time herself.

She pushes hair back from her face and sighs. The visions of the past day still swirl in her mind, her entire life, essentially, both the little good and every scrap of pain. She can still hear Fate’s whispers in her mind, total nonsense, just a harsh voice spilling out indecipherable syllables like white noise in her brain. Chloe hopes she goes away soon. She doesn’t know how diviners manage that greedy bitch.

Max awakens with a start, jolting Victoria awake as well with a sharp gasp, lifting her head off of Victoria’s lap.

“Max?” both Victoria and Chloe ask at once as Max clamps her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Shut up, shut up,” Max mumbles. “Go away.”

“Shit,” Victoria says, grabbing for Max’s shoulder. “Fate’s not happy, huh.”

Chloe feels a pang of guilt in her stomach. She just ruined Max’s life, didn’t she? If Fate wanted her and Max defied the gods for Chloe, then...what will Fate do to Max?

“She’s sending me — visions, and she’s yelling, and, and,” Max stammers, hunching over. “Stop, stop, I won’t, this isn’t _fair._ ”

“What’s gonna happen to her?” Chloe asks, turning her gaze to Victoria.

“I don’t know,” Victoria admits. “I’ve never heard of a diviner fighting against Fate like this before. She might be...she might lose her powers.”

“As long as she shuts up,” Max murmurs as Chloe’s heart stops. She slumps back against the pillow.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” she says, her voice weak. “Fucking waste of time.”

“Chloe, not helping,” Victoria warns.

“Shoulda just let her take me, all I do is—”

“Chloe, shut the fuck up for heaven’s sake,” Victoria groans, leaning forward and embracing Max fully. “We did the right thing. No matter what.”

Chloe wants to be angry, but as she turns over and sees Max shakingly lower her hands from her head, she relents. No point in pushing all her guilt onto Max right now. It’s Chloe’s problem, not hers, and what’s done is done.

Still. Mark another girl down for being ruined by Chloe Price. What’s the count at now, at least three? Gods, this stay in the Chase Estate can’t be over fast enough.

“I’m okay, I think,” Max says. “She’s quieter now. I don’t know what she’ll do, I just...I can’t trust her. Not anymore.”

“Gods have short memories,” Victoria says, rubbing Max’s back. “Even Fate. Humans are...we don’t mean that much to them. I’ve heard that even life-long Oracles don’t talk to Fate on a named basis. Maybe she’ll forget.”

“I don’t know if I want to be an Oracle anymore,” Max says miserably. “Fate’s _awful._ ”

Victoria doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. She tries to start with a soft, “Max...”

“She tried to kill Chloe,” Max spits. “She’s manipulating us all into doing her bidding, into her own version of the future. She’s...” She swallows. “I wish I’d never heard her voice.”

This is too familiar to Chloe’s ears. Max shouldn’t feel this way, Chloe should, Chloe _has,_ for years, wished she had no control over fire so her stepfather wouldn’t hate her, wished she hadn’t been changed by Rachel. Max _deserves_ her abilities, she deserves the world and more, how can she think...

Chloe’s fault. Always her fault.

Victoria doesn’t seem to know what to do, either. Maybe she’s never seen Max like this. Maybe no one has. Maybe Chloe brought a unique new dimension of pain into her life.

Someone raps at the door and knocks the three of them out of silence. “Come out of there this instant! You’ll need to eat eventually,” Victor shouts from the other side.

“The druids are coming today, aren’t they?” Victoria calls back. “When they get here, we can talk to them. Right, Chloe?”

“Right,” Chloe affirms, glad to have another asshole to hate instead of just herself. “Yeah, fuck off, Chase. I’m not leaving till I hear a druid.”

“I _will_ deal with the three of you soon enough,” Victor growls, but he stalks away shortly afterward.

“Asshole,” Chloe opines, and Victoria and Max nod in agreement. Chloe can’t help but smile. At least they agree on that much.

Max stands up and cracks her back, still looking a bit woozy and drained. “So, we’re still planning to bring Rachel back?” she asks.

“...yeah.” Chloe’s not sure what else she could do, at this point. And her opportunity’s coming so soon, anyway. Druids. Like Kate, but they’ll know the real spell, they have to, and then she can see Rachel again, and then maybe...maybe join her. If that’s how this all works, she can get her explanation from Rachel and then...they can be together. For real, for eternity.

“I’m curious what she has to say, myself,” Victoria admits as Max begins nervously pacing the room. “She left things pretty fucking messy.”

Chloe would argue with her, but despite what she said about not believing her, she has this sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that Victoria was never lying to her. That Rachel was up to something else. That Chloe wasn’t really enough for her. And if the fall of Arcadia had something to do with all that...it would make too much sense.

Instead, she changes the topic. “So, Vic, what’s gonna happen to you guys when I’m gone?” she asks. “I mean...we’re pissing off Oracle Fuckface a lot, and you two still have to like, live with him.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Victoria says, standing up and reaching for Max’s hand, stopping her nervous pace. “We’ve got the talent, even if he kicks us out — and he shouldn’t. This is a big deal. Even if he personally doesn’t like it, being connected to this mission to figure out Arcadia will help his career even more. We’ll...we’ll figure it out. Right, Max?”

Max doesn’t look so sure, and Chloe’s heart aches for her as she bites her lip and leans into Victoria’s taller frame.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I’m just — I’m just glad you’re safe, Chloe.”

Gods, Chloe wishes she wouldn’t say that shit.

The conversation drops off as they wait for news, Chloe in particular trying to ignore her hunger and thirst by pretending she can sleep.

Only Victor’s second attack on the door draws her out of her half-daze. “The druids have arrived,” he shouts. “You can ask them your silly questions.”

“Give me a little proof, shitstain!” Chloe calls back, lazily getting off the bed and noting that Max and Victoria are standing fearfully in front of the door, Victoria looking primed to do...something.

And then, a soft, all-too-familiar voice from beyond the door. “Chloe?”

No.

No fucking way.

“Who is _that?_ ” Victoria hisses, turning and catching Chloe’s eye.

“Let her in,” Chloe breathes in response.

Victoria draws a line down the center of the barrier on the door and utters an incantation. She opens the door, and there she is.

At first, the two of them lock eyes, and Kate’s face lights up, and Chloe, for a moment, can believe that things are okay. That this is a good thing. Kate’s here, Kate was wonderful, Kate was kind, Kate was smart — she can help now.

But then the corners of Kate’s mouth turn down, and she gives Chloe a look she’s never seen before — that no one in the world might’ve had reason to see before. Kate _glares._

She shoves right past Max and Victoria, to everyone’s mild shock, and gets right up in Chloe’s face. “You were here the whole time?” she asks, acid dripping from her words. Chloe gulps.

“K-Kate—” Chloe stammers, but what the hell is there to say?

“Here?!” Kate repeats, shoving her back. “Right where I _said_ we could go, right where I could’ve _helped_ you, and you just went off and tried to — what, cast the spell on your own?”

“I—”

“You _lied_ to me, you _said_ you’d come back, I waited for _days—_ ”

Chloe’s eyes frantically scan the room and find that the Oracle and the Elder look as confused as Max and Victoria do, all of them exchanging glances like, “Do _you_ know what the fuck?” and that’s _not helpful_ , Chloe’s dying right now, wilting in front of Kate’s justified anger.

“—And I just can’t believe you’d be so _stupid,_ ” Kate finishes, shoving her back. She’s shaking, and Chloe’s not sure if she’s about to full-on slap her or start crying and both are really really bad. Instead, Kate composes herself, clutching her charm in a calming gesture Chloe had seen many times out in the Wilds. She closes her eyes briefly, opens them again, and they focus directly on Chloe’s own matching charm. She lets out a short huff, turns her nose up, pivots, and walks right out of the room. “Unbelievable,” echoes from over her shoulder as Chloe stands there like a dumbass, just barely getting out an “I’m sorry,” before she’s out of sight.

Victor’s the first to speak, the asshole. He clears his throat. “Well. That was bracing.” He’s got a smug smile stretched across his perfect fucking mug. Like he’s won something. Chloe throws a gust of wind towards him and slams the door shut in his face.

“Chloe!” Max says, putting her hands on her hips. “The other druid?”

“Right, shit, sorry,” Chloe says. “Druid can come in. Baron Von Shitbird stays outside.”

The older woman slowly creaks open the door, her green eyes laughing at the entire tableau despite everything. Chloe hopes this druid is less stuck-up than others she’s heard about. Her white hair falls in little ringlets to her shoulders, swaying as she enters.

“So I take it you’re the one who’s been causing the Oracle such trouble,” she says. “Chloe, did I hear that right?”

Chloe nods, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“And the two of you. I assume you’re Victoria,” the Elder says, pointing to the correct woman, “And you?”

“Maxin—Max Caulfield,” Max says.

“I am Elder Tasha. Tell me, all of you — what exactly is it that you’ve been doing to Sir Chase?”

The three of them look to each other. And then Max and Victoria both look at Chloe, and she realizes she’s the only one who’s got the full story.

She sighs and rubs her temples. “Look. Get some food in me, let me have a drink, and I’ll tell you everything.”

 

* * *

 

Tasha takes them down to the front yard, which the druids have essentially turned into a miniature Druidic Enclave, a city of tents laid out in a circular pattern surrounding a hastily-constructed firepit. Chloe can just _imagine_ how much Chase likes seeing his stately, well-kept manor trod all over by these barefoot primitives and it makes her heart lift just a little bit. And Tasha’s kind of cool, sitting the three of them down in front of the fire and making them porridge and a somewhat bitter tea, listening patiently while Chloe tries to explain it all. Rachel’s scream. The twisted creatures hovering over her body. Months in the Wilds. Meeting Kate. Leaving Kate. Her time here, her history with Max and Victoria — Victoria doesn’t seem thrilled about that part but something in Tasha’s manner lets Chloe know that she won’t stop until she’s prodded every last part of this story.

Finally, when Chloe finishes telling the story of last night, of Max and Victoria being total badasses and saving her life, the party of four falls silent.

“It’s quite a journey you’ve taken, Chloe,” Tasha says at last, setting down her teacup and looking very seriously at her. “To tell you the truth, it’d be hard to believe if I wasn’t standing here and looking at that symbol on your arm. There’s just one more piece of proof I need.” She puts two fingers in her mouth and blows a shrill whistle, and a dragon comes barrelling towards them from around one of the tents.

Chloe jumps to her feet and throws her hands out, grasping the beast by the blood before it can get close enough to breathe on them. “What the fu—” But then she looks at the dragon more carefully as it whimpers, the charm around its neck swaying with leftover momentum. “Holy fucking shit.” She lets go of the poor thing and it drops to the ground, laying its body flat against the dirt. Chloe runs for it and hugs it around the neck. “Pompidou! I’m sorry, boy!” Chloe scratches Pompidou behind the horns, trying to get him to realize she’s apologizing, she didn’t mean to hurt him.

“You’re so big now!” Chloe exclaims.

Tasha chuckles. “You’re from Arcadia, all right.”

A familiar face comes panting towards Chloe, and as they lock eyes...well, Chloe can’t say she was ever _friends_ with Frank, but it feels damned good to see someone else made it out alive. So it’s an impromptu bear hug between the two of them, Frank squeezing tight. “Holy shit, you’re really alive!” Frank says as they part. He suddenly frowns, then jabs Chloe’s chest. “Hey. Wait a minute. You met Kate, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

He jabs a finger at her chest. “ _That’s_ why she came storming out of there! Dude, you fucked up.”

“I know,” Chloe groans.

“Come on over here, both of you,” Tasha goads. “Frank will want to hear about this. And I’ve got a couple of ideas in mind.”

Pompidou pads over with them and sits down behind Victoria, making her jump and cling to Max a little. Max, for her part, seems fascinated with the creature — with the entire druid scene, really — but she takes Victoria’s hand and soothes it just the same. Chloe can’t help but smirk at the two of them. Fucking dorks. Victoria’s probably never seen this much honest living in her life.

Then Chloe remembers she had to go through the Wilds, too, and her smugness evaporates. “Victoria, hey,” Frank says with a little wave at her.

“He got a lot bigger after we separated,” Victoria mumbles, edging away from the dragon.

“I know, right?” Frank says, beaming. “He’s awesome.”

Tasha clears her throat and everyone turns their attention back to her. “Now, Frank. Chloe was just telling me she wants to use the Rite of Remembrance to bring Rachel’s spirit back.”

“That’s what it’s called?” Chloe blurts out.

Tasha takes the interruption in stride, looking to Frank. “She thinks Rachel was close to whatever killed Arcadia. She thinks it’ll be the key to why the wards fell.”

Frank’s gone pale. “I—Why would you—”

“I swear, Frank, it was her voice. The scream,” Chloe says.

“The—the night they fell, she...she got a bunch of things from me,” Frank admits. “Expensive stuff. All connected to the Old Gods.”

“That was...for me,” Chloe tells him, pointing to her focus-sign.

“She dumped all her money on my counter. Like she wouldn’t need it anymore.” Frank swallows. “Do you think she — she knew something?”

“We were going to run away together,” Chloe says, looking down. “That was the plan.”

“Wait.” Frank’s eyes narrow. “With _you?_ ”

“She...” Chloe chokes. “She loved me.”

And then Chloe remembers Victoria’s words. _Probably off fucking the professor again. Or that greasy apothecary._ Frank’s eyes say it all, the confused anger burning in them, the tension in his fists. Her gaze shifts to Victoria, who’s staring at her lap, still squeezing Max’s hand.

“This is bullshit,” Frank says, standing up. “She’s fucking lying.”

“What?!” Chloe objects. “What are you—”

He’s shaking as he jabs a finger into his own chest. “She loved _me,_ you piece of shit, stop spinning all this horseshit to the Elder—”

Tasha clears her throat, and everyone falls silent as she stands. “It’s clear to me that Rachel was something of an enigma. The only way for any of us to know what really happened is to bring her back and try to unravel this mystery. And we will _not_ —” She shoots a glare at Frank and Chloe — “Fight about any perceived betrayals until we’ve heard straight from the source. Am I clear?”

To Chloe’s utter shock, Frank bows his head. “Yes, madam Elder.”

“Good. Now.” She turns to Chloe. “My people can prepare the ritual here, but we’ll need to send a party to Arcadia to retrieve Rachel’s body. It’s a grim task, but it is necessary.”

Chloe shudders. She’s been afraid of this ever since Victoria said the same thing. The thought of what Rachel must look like now, after six months in the ground, makes her sick to her stomach.

“Max and Victoria, the two of you are somewhat in the Oracle’s disfavor at the moment, I’d imagine. In order to keep the peace, it may be best that the two of you separate from him for a time, and join Chloe in her task. Of course, a few of my own must come along. I’m thinking of two in particular, in fact.” There’s an evil glint in her eye. “Frank, for his own peace of mind, and so his dragon can watch out for you in the Wilds. And...Kate Marsh, I think.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Chloe exclaims. “She hates my guts, didn’t you see that?”

“Let me make something clear to you, Miss Chloe Price,” Tasha begins, her tone hardening. “I consider Kate a member of my family, and when she came back from the Wilds she was no longer the girl I watched grow up. You hurt her deeply. You will make amends. I don’t know what precisely you did besides abandon her to the Wilds, but I expect you to do your best to remedy the situation. This is the condition I set for my aid.”

Damn, she’s a tough old lady. Chloe can’t help but feel a little bit of the respect that she’s seen Frank give her. And the fact is, she’s totally right, and Chloe...Chloe still stings, thinking of the tone in Kate’s voice when they met this morning. That’s not the way she wants to end things. She swallows her pride and nods. “Fine. I’ll try.”

“You’ll _succeed_ _._ Max, Victoria, does this suit you?”

Victoria squeezes Max’s hand. “I haven’t been out in the Wilds since Arcadia fell...”

“Between Chloe, Pompidou, Frank and Kate, the two of you will be quite safe. Come along. I’ll get you two ready for the journey. Chloe — Kate’s in that tent. Her father’s busy with the horses. ” Tasha points. “You have one shot. Until she comes out, you’re not leaving this estate.”

Chloe nods, staring at the tent and sighing heavily. Fuck. Well. She made this mess. She has to clean it up.

She carefully lifts the tent and finds Kate sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her charm clasped between her hands and offering some soft prayer. One eye pops open as Chloe enters, and Kate turns her head away.

“Kate,” Chloe begins, crawling over to her. “I—”

“Stop. Just stop it.” Kate’s voice shakes with anger as she drops her charm back to her chest, kneading her knees, looking anywhere but at Chloe. “The Elder put you up to this, didn’t she?”

Jeez. These druids are way too close to each other. Chloe takes a moment before deciding to just tell the damned truth. “...yeah. But Kate—I woulda come anyway.”

“Would you? Because you seemed perfectly happy to just leave me behind last time.”

Chloe winces. But it’s fair. Kate’s got every right to be pissed. So she says the only thing she can: “I’m sorry.”

“Do you know what it felt like? To wake up alone that morning?” Kate asks, looking up and glaring at her. “I felt so stupid. For thinking you ever could — that you’d —” Kate sucks in a deep breath to calm herself. “Why did you do it? Why’d you leave only to come and do — what I _said_ I’d do for you?”

“I thought it’d be better for you,” Chloe mumbles.

“What?”

“I thought — I thought it’d be better for you if I was out of your life. All I do is screw things up. I came here and instead of doing what I was trying to do, I — I might’ve ruined my best friend’s whole career. I might’ve made her lose her Oracle powers because I’m a complete fucking dumbass, all right?” Chloe’s clenching her fists, kneeling in front of Kate, her eyes hurting from trying to keep tears at bay. “It would’ve been better if we’d never met, for you, because after I do this I’m...I’m going to join her.”

“Join her?”

“Rachel.” Chloe sucks in a deep breath. “Kate, I know you — you think you loved me, but, but I—I’ve wanted to die for a really long time, and the only girl who ever made that stop was Rachel. So now, once I get my answers, I’m going to stop wasting everyone’s fucking time. Okay?”

“So I’m not good enough,” Kate spits, turning away. “Thanks, Chloe.”

“W-wait, that’s not what I—”

“I wanted to be with you, Chloe!” Kate interrupts. “I know you’re hurting, you’re hurting a lot, but that doesn’t mean you get to just give up on everything, it doesn’t mean you can hurt other people too.” She sniffs. “I felt so terrible that night. I cried myself to sleep because I thought I wasn’t good enough to help you.”

“Kate, you’re — it’s not your fault, I’m just...like this.” Chloe hangs her head. “You’d be better off without me.”

“I didn’t believe that. And you shouldn’t die.”

Well. Hearing that’s a surprise. Chloe thought she was angry.

“You’re special, Chloe.” It seems like it’s easier for Kate to talk when her back’s turned. “You’ve got all this power, and you’re smart, and you’re so determined and stubborn and — and I just...If you let people help you, if you let them in, I think you could recover from...everything you’ve been through. And I wanted to be there with you, but you just left. You _lied._ ” Her voice wavers. “I missed you so much. But you hurt me. I don’t...” She sighs. “I don’t know what to do with you or how I feel. I hate this. I wish I was good enough.”

“Kate, you are,” Chloe urges, because, no, fuck, Kate is not and never was the problem here. “It’s just me, I just—”

“Then why do you want to kill yourself?” Kate interrupts.

“Because — I just do! I can’t control it, I can’t stop feeling this way, I never could.” As the words leave Chloe’s mouth, she wonders if she’s ever been so honest about this in her life. If she’d ever spoken to Rachel this way. Rachel would tell her to not say such things. To push it down, have fun, hold out until things get better. But Kate turns at those words and meets her eyes. Chloe tries again, because someone’s finally listening. “I—I get these thoughts, all the time, a long time before I ever went out into the Wilds, I’d burn myself to get rid of them, I’d...I’d do anything if I could stop them. But I can’t.”

Kate sighs and turns all the way around, sitting back, running a hand through her hair. “Why did the Elder send you in here?”

“She wants you to come with me. To bring back Rachel’s body,” Chloe admits. “And...and that’s gonna be hard. And I sort of...” Chloe thinks for a moment, and this is the truth, too. “I want you there to help me through it.”

Kate’s quiet for a while, picking at her dress.

“Promise me something,” she says at last.

Chloe shouldn’t say this, but she does: “Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t leave after we cast the Rite. You won’t kill yourself. You won’t run. You’ll stay for at least another day and see what your future looks like. With me.” Kate takes in a shuddering breath. “Promise, or I won’t come with you. I can’t feel like that again.”

One day? One day. Chloe can handle that.

“I promise.”

Before Chloe knows it, Kate pulls her into an embrace, squeezing her tight.

“You won’t leave again?”

“I won’t.”

Chloe knows how it feels. She’s been reminded of it ever since she came here and found Max again. Kate didn’t deserve that. And here, holding her, she knows that she doesn’t really want to leave, that she never did.

Maybe one day, that lesson will sink in.


	9. Keep Your Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my update pace has slowed down a little bit! Life's getting hectic and managing my mental health takes priority sometimes. I'm grateful for everyone who keeps leaving such kind comments on each chapter, and to everyone who's still watching this story unfold. I know I don't respond to many comments, but I read all of them and appreciate them -- I just don't know what else to say other than thank you. 
> 
> So, thank you for sticking with me.

Victoria’s quiet as she and Max help load up Pompidou with the equipment for their journey, the beast seeming totally unfazed by the weight of the tents and food bags and waterskins they’re strapping to his sides. “I promise we won’t ride you, boy,” Frank says, rubbing him under the chin. He makes a strange grumbling noise, but overall doesn’t seem too bothered by the load he’s carrying.

But Max isn’t looking at the dragon. Victoria’s kept her lips pursed, her gaze down. Max’s little touches, holding Victoria’s hand, they aren’t enough. Something’s really wrong. Victoria’s never like this with her, not anymore, not for no reason. She looks terrified. Trying to hold herself together.

“Elder Tasha?” Max asks as Tasha slaps the dragon’s haunch to tell him she’s finished.

“Yes?” Tasha stands up to her full height and watches Pompidou lumber off, Frank walking beside him.

“We need to get a few things from inside the house. Is that okay?”

“I have a feeling Chloe and Kate will be a while, and we’re in no rush.” Tasha throws her a smirk. “In fact, I think we have a _number_ of reasons to consider the Oracle in violation of certain conditions set out when we gave this land to Witchdom, so rest assured, we’ll be conducting a thorough investigation of the grounds for...let’s say, a month? You’ll have our support as long you need it.”

Max nods, then takes Victoria’s hand. “Come on,” she whispers, tugging her back into the estate. Fate says...something, her mind’s not translating her words well anymore, so Max shoves the goddess out of her thoughts and brings Victoria upstairs, into Max’s room.

She closes the door in case of wandering Oracles and takes both of Victoria’s hands in her own. “Victoria. Are you all right?”

Victoria looks conflicted for a moment. Her shoulders raise, her face takes on that blank don’t-bother-me look that she uses to deny herself. But as Max squeezes and looks into her eyes, Victoria drops her defenses.

“I’m scared,” she admits at last.

“Of the Wilds?” Max asks.

“Well, yes,” Victoria concedes, bowing her head. “The trip out of Arcadia, through the Wilds — it was almost as bad as staying there. We didn’t have enough charms to go around. People got taken in the night, or they wandered off and fell in kelpie nests, or, or they started changing...” She shudders. “We lost so many during the journey. We couldn’t stay and hold the barriers, we were running out of supplies, we had to run, I know we did, just...”

Max embraces her, rubbing her back. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

Victoria sniffs. “Frank gave me one of the first charms for — for the work I did, keeping the dorms safe as a shelter for people to gather in. He and I — I don’t know. We never really got friendly. Seeing him is just a reminder of everything. All of this is.” She takes in a deep breath and pulls away from Max. “But...that’s not all. Is Fate still angry with you?”

Max closes her eyes and focuses on Fate’s voice. It’s hard to make out what she’s saying. Fate can’t lie to her, Max knows that, so all she’s getting is _You will die, Chloe will die, Victoria will die,_ but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just Fate playing games. Of course they’ll die, everyone does someday. Fate won’t name specifics because either her insight’s failing her, or because they contradict the fear that Fate’s trying to put into her heart. Max breathes calmly. She may be a god, but it’s surprising how little Max is scared of her right now. And maybe Victoria’s right. Maybe Fate will forget this, or forgive it, simply working Chloe’s life into her everspanning plan.

“Max?”

Max opens her eyes and shakes her head as if that’ll clear her thoughts. “She is, but she’s getting quieter. She’s just upset that things didn’t go her way. Like a child.” She smirks, thinking of Fate like a toddler throwing a tantrum. She can’t _do_ anything to Max, not really. No exchange has been made, and she will not use up what power she has on spite alone. No doubt she has better uses for it.

“I’m...” Victoria takes her hands out of Max’s and approaches the picture window, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when the Rite’s over with. Tasha was right. We did something _crazy._ We defied my father and a _god_ for this. And what are we going to get out of it? We’re — Max, I just don’t — I don’t know if we have a future.”

Max can’t help but chuckle despite how hard Victoria’s taking this. “Ironic, talking to me.”

“Max.” Victoria gives her a withering look over her shoulder.

“I know, I know.” Max walks up beside her. “What do you mean?”

“Will my father kick you out? What will you do without him? What are we going to do if that happens?” Victoria raps her nails on her side. “This — we were on thin enough ice when we got together. I don’t...”

“We’ll figure it out. You said that to Chloe this morning,” Max says, rubbing Victoria’s shoulder, trying to get her to look her way.

“Well that was because Chloe was guilt-tripping you and I wanted her to stop.” Victoria folds her arms defiantly. “It — hm. I don’t know.”

“Chloe can’t help the things she feels sometimes, Victoria,” Max says gently.

“But she wasn’t helping. And this isn’t either.” Victoria sighs. “I just don’t know what to do with my life.”

“We’re going to have some time to think before we decide. So will Victor,” Max says. “I don’t know if I want to be an Oracle anymore. But I’m always going to hear Fate, so maybe...maybe I will, and I’ll just use her to my advantage like she uses us. It’s not perfect, but...” She bites her lip. “I can still help the Witchdom with that, and you can be by my side. Otherwise — well, Chloe’s going to shake things up. She can’t help it. Maybe we’ll ride the waves and see what comes our way. No matter what, I’m not going to leave you. We’ll make it through this.”

Victoria turns and embraces her, leaving her with a quick peck. “All right,” she says, pushing hair off her forehead. “I’ll try not to freak out.”

“We’re gonna be camping. That’ll be at least a little romantic,” Max teases, running her fingers along Victoria’s arm. “Sitting around the campfire...sharing a little tent...”

Victoria snorts. “Yeah, and werewolves crawling around waiting for us to drop our charms, and shitting in the woods, and not bathing for a week.”

“I’m trying, Victoria.”

Victoria smiles. “I know you are.” She kisses the top of Max’s head.

They both hear footsteps approaching and quickly separate just as Victor opens the door. He looks down at the two of them, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’ve been told by the Elder that the two of you are heading for Arcadia,” he states, his face twitching like he’s desperately trying to maintain control of it. “While I think this is idiotic and unnecessary, I’ve been convinced of its...diplomatic value. But I won’t let the two of you simply wander off.” He clears his throat. “I have prepared travel supplies for you in the library. You will not ruin the clothing and shoes I have paid for. When you return, we will discuss Maxine’s future in my estate. Am I understood?”

Max’s surprise must be evident on her face, but Victoria speaks first. “Yes, sir,” she says flatly.

“Maxine, if my daughter does not return to me safely, I will take my grievances directly to the Magister. Am I clear?” Victor’s brown eyes burn into Max. “I am allowing this under very specific conditions.”

“None of us will let her get hurt,” Max says. _Unlike you,_ she wants to add, thinking of Victoria’s suffocation in this estate, but she’s learned a thing or two about diplomacy herself.

“See that you don’t. And Victoria...” Victor seems less certain of himself when he turns to her. “I contacted your mother this morning. She is...impressed with your knowledge and skill, if not your judgement. Once this mess is cleaned up, she hopes you will consider a position in her coven.”

“I see.” Victoria bites the words off her tongue.

“Well.” Victor clears his throat again. “I’ll be expecting your return.”

He pivots and leaves like a soldier on parade, Max taking Victoria’s hand as soon as he’s out of sight and squeezing hard.

“Well, there’s one idea,” Victoria says. “But — I don’t want to...not be with you. Run off to Citadel and leave you alone with _him?_ That’s...”

“Yeah, sucks,” Max agrees instantly. “But we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“All right. Yeah. I’ll wait on it. Let’s get ready to go.”

 

* * *

 

By the time the party’s actually ready to leave, Max and Victoria have traded out their clothing for more study and practical wear, heavy fur boots and trousers and cloaks to keep the rain off. Victoria’s got a witch’s bag strapped over her shoulders and to Max she looks...kind of amazing. She hasn’t told Victoria that her glamour’s been down all day. It hardly seems worth the time to correct, and besides, they’re among druids.

Speaking of druids, as the two of them leave the estate and head into the front yard, Max spots Chloe standing next to the one who’d chewed Chloe out so spectacularly this morning. Kate? She looks a lot calmer right now, and so does Chloe, for that matter, though Max notes the respectful distance between them.

As they approach, Tasha turns to them. “Ready to go?” she asks.

Max nods. “Very good. Max, Victoria, this is Kate Marsh, the daughter of a good friend of mine,” Tasha says as Kate approaches Max.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says as she shakes her hand. “Chloe’s told me a lot about you.”

“Really?” Max asks.

“You too,” she adds, looking over to Victoria.

Victoria scoffs. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kate replies with a small smile. Chloe shifts uncomfortably.

Frank peers around the head of his dragon. “The two rich kids finally ready to get a move on? I’m bored already.”

“Yes, they are, Frank.” Tasha smiles at the three of them. “I wish you all the best of luck and safe travels. And Chloe, my dear, I am sorry for what you must face.” She puts a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to lean on those who care for you.” Her green eyes flick towards Kate, who looks down and blushes slightly. Max decides she likes Kate.

Chloe looks a little shocked to be touched, jumping at the contact, but she nods. “Yeah. All right. Whatever.”

Tasha chuckles lightly. “I expected no less from you.” She pats Chloe’s shoulder once more, then passes by Max, Victoria and Kate, heading inside the estate proper.

“All right, Pompidou,” Frank says, slapping the side of his dragon. “Let’s get walking.”

 

* * *

 

And walk they do. They have one brief rest, where Kate and Chloe cooperate to make a quick batch of tea, and sitting down and sharing that quiet relief from the encroaching cold of the Wilds is a good chance for Max to watch Kate and Chloe together, see the way they look at each other. It’s like a fitful dance of hummingbirds; approaching, darting away, hesitant to touch. Kate is perfectly sweet and soft when she speaks, inquiring after Max and Victoria’s health after being up all night rescuing Chloe, carefully interjecting when Frank and Chloe start getting snippy with each other over some irrelevant detail. By the time they’re packing up the kettle and heading back out, Max is able to see how Kate could be the kind of person that kept Chloe from self-destruction.

She holds Victoria’s hand openly after that. No one says anything. It’s just happening. Victoria, for her part, relaxes after a time, even though the Wilds surround them on all sides, the thin shimmer of the road-wards the only sign that they’re protected aside from the charms around their necks. There’s no reason to be afraid, that’s what Max whispers to her. We’re safe. We’re on our way.

They make camp when even the diffuse light of the sun through the thick canopy fades out. Kate and Frank are the first to head into their tents, and Max has to practically carry Victoria into the tent after she falls asleep on Max’s shoulder. But after sitting next to Victoria on the bedroll for a time, Max sees the fire flare up outside, Chloe’s silhouette still lurking in the light.

She kisses Victoria’s cheek, hearing a low grumble but no sign she’s truly awake, and leaves the tent to find Chloe sitting back with her legs stretched before her, staring into the dark leaves where stars should be. Chloe looks down and catches her eye.

“Hey.”

Max sits beside her. “Hey.”

Chloe lays back on the dirt, clasping her hands behind her head, letting out a hissing through her teeth.

“What’s keeping you up?” Max asks.

“Mm.” Chloe turns her head towards Kate’s tent. “Trying to work up the nerve to ask.”

Max can’t help but chuckle, remembering the first time she and Victoria slept in the same bed. “How are you guys doing?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Chloe admits. “Like...I think she’s less mad now. And she said she didn’t want me to die, so, you know, bonus. But I don’t know if she still...” Chloe sighs.

“She seems very nice,” Max says. “I can see why you like her.”

“She likes you too,” Chloe informs her. “She told me...she’s glad you were there for me.”

“I’m glad I was too.”

“Sap,” Chloe accuses, poking Max in the side.

“You wound me.”

“It’s good to have a sap around sometimes,” Chloe says, sitting up. “I’m sure Vic thinks so.”

“Chloe...” Max hopes she’s not still jealous, but Chloe interrupts her.

“How’d you two end up together, anyway? I’m sure Lord Fuckdragon didn’t set you two up on purpose, ‘specially since you gave him the finger yesterday.”

“It was hard,” Max says, drawing circles in the dirt with her fingers. “She hated me at first. I was getting all the attention her dad never gave her.”

Chloe snorts. “Sounds like Vic. Girl had jealousy issues.”

“She’s certainly got her problems,” Max admits. “But...after a while, we were stuck with each other, and I started...well, not being Victor’s perfect apprentice. She liked that about me, I think. And I worked _really_ hard to convince her I wasn’t using her, I wasn’t trying to take her place, and I helped her through some things.”

“That ol’ Max Caulfield charm,” Chloe pipes up, grinning. “Gods, you could get anyone to like you. Remember the way my parents basically acted like you were my cooler sister?”

“They loved you too, Chloe.”

“I know, just trying to give you a compliment, nerd.”

Max looks down and smiles. “...anyway. Remember Captain?”

“Dude, of course I do, you were _so_ bad at that ring-toss game. I had to rescue a maiden in distress.”

“Victor took him from me. Something about it being childish. Victoria got him back, and she soulbound him to me, and then...then she kissed me.” Max’s heart still flutters, remembering that moment in the gardens.

“That’s cute as hell,” Chloe opines, sitting up. “And honestly...I think you’re good for her. She’s a lot less bitchy than I remember. Just...don’t let her hurt you.”

“She won’t, Chloe. I trust her.”

“Guess I should too, since she saved my life and shit,” Chloe admits with a smirk. She brushes some of her hair behind her ear. “You said she was afraid of being used, right? Is that...because of Rachel?”

Max bristles. She knows this topic isn’t a good one, for Chloe. But telling the truth is important. “...Yeah. That’s what she told me.”

Chloe covers her eyes with her hand. There’s a brief silence before she speaks. “I k-know I shouldn’t...everything Victoria said, and Frank, and there’s no reason they’d lie to me, or to you.” Her breath shakes. “But I can’t believe...she didn’t. She couldn’t have. I have to believe that. Anytime I think about her screwing around with other people I just...” Smoke starts to seep from her palms, wind coming from nowhere and blowing it into spiral patterns, the earth vibrating slightly beneath them. “I...”

Max reaches out for Chloe, taking her hand away from her face, squeezing her wrist. “Chloe, it’s okay. I know it must be...”

“It fucking sucks,” Chloe mutters, but the air around them calms. She sucks in a harsh breath. “If Rachel tells me all that was true, I don’t...she was the only good thing in my life, Max.”

“She’s not anymore.”

Chloe meets her eyes, and Max flicks her own towards Kate’s tent. “You have us,” Max promises. “We’ll be here for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Chloe wipes her nose. “Ugh. I’m gross.”

“It’s all right.”

Chloe stands suddenly, her hand slipping from Max’s grasp. She looks longingly at Kate’s tent, then looks at her own empty one.

“Don’t chicken out on me,” Max goads, standing up and shoving her towards the tent. “Go.”

Chloe shoots her a shaky smile before she lifts the flap and crawls in. Max can’t really hear them, but she can see Kate rise, can see her silhouette gently put a hand around Chloe’s neck. They talk in soft whispers. Pompidou chuffs behind her.

Max is a little disappointed when she doesn’t see them kiss, but Chloe lies down beside Kate as the fire dies, and that’s good enough. She heads back to Victoria, wraps her skinny limbs around her, kissing her forehead when she complains about being kept up by an insomniac apprentice.

She falls asleep to the sounds of the hunters and the prey in the Wilds, holding Victoria tight all through the night.


	10. Over the Wall

It’s only when they come to the end of the road that the panic sets in.

Victoria’s been keeping it together. With Max by her side and shimmering wards surrounding her, the Wilds could be ignored. She could hold Max’s hand and pretend it was a walk through the gardens.

But now they’ve reached the edge of the negation circle. Where the wards form a solid wall in front of them instead of guarding their sides, where the vines are overtaking the road. Max takes Victoria’s hand as the party stops, staring at the glitter in the air, waiting for the first one of them to cross the threshold. 

“Kate? Still got that rod?” Chloe asks quietly. Kate digs in her satchel and produces the object in question, a stone dowsing rod. “Can that thing find Rachel?” Chloe asks, staring as Kate brings out a knife from her bag as well.

Kate shakes her head. “No. Just Arcadia.”

“Oh.” Chloe rubs the back of her neck. “Well. I know where I left her.”

Victoria’s surprised at the pang that sets off in her, how it almost hurts to hear Chloe’s voice break like that. Going beyond this barrier must be just as hard for her as it is for Victoria, if not worse. What has Chloe seen out there?

Kate slices open her palm and grips the rod, telling it to direct her to Arcadia, and she takes the first step beyond. Pompidou and Frank follow, then Chloe, jogging to catch up as Kate follows the direction of the rod spinning in her hands. Max tugs Victoria through, despite Victoria’s vicegrip on her hand, and the second she steps onto the vines she shudders and remembers nights best left in the past. 

“It’s okay,” Max whispers. “We’re safe.”

Victoria just nods. She looks to Chloe and sees that she’s just as tense as Victoria, though she’s not holding onto Kate for dear life; instead, she’s squared her shoulders, hands locked up in fists at her sides, jaw set. She’s twitchy. 

For a while they march in silence, heads swiveling to search for signs of possible attack (although Victoria knows, academically, that this many charms traveling side-by-side is like a giant warning sign to stay away for Wilds predators, it still makes her feel better.) Chloe spots the first kelpie hole and freezes it over for them, Pompidou taking a short flight to avoid plunging in himself. Glowing insects flit in the dark bushes around them, scattering when they approach. Victoria can feel her heart beating in her throat.

But after a while, Chloe speaks up.

“Hey, Frank, Vic...did you guys see my mom? Or David?” It’s quite a way to break the silence. But Victoria remembers. Too well.

“They were looking for you,” Frank says before Victoria can say anything. “Kept asking if anyone saw you.”

Chloe swallows, grinding her teeth. “Did they make it out?”   


“David helped everyone survive,” Victoria tells her. “He was the only sorcerer we had left by the time we evacuated the town. When I separated from the group, they were both still alive.”

“They made it into Sealth with me,” Frank adds. “Far as I know, they’re still there, somewhere.”

“Great. Fucking  _ David  _ was more help than me.” Chloe looks ready to keep ranting, but Kate shoots her a look, puts a hand on her shoulder. Chloe closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Maybe I’ll look ‘em up after this is over,” she mumbles. “They should know I’m alive. I guess.”

“I think that’d be good for you,” Max agrees as Kate takes Chloe’s hand. 

But Victoria has a question of her own. If Chloe found Rachel, if she was on the outskirts of Arcadia during the fighting, she might know...

“Chloe, did you — did you see Nathan? That night?”

Chloe looks over her shoulder with an almost pitying look. “You don’t wanna know the answer to that.”   


“I asked, didn’t I?” Victoria asks, narrowing her brows.

“Okay, if you gotta know, it was him and that creepy professor I found all fucked-up and mutated, standing over Rachel’s body,” Chloe states plainly. “Your little rich-kid buddy killed her. Think both those fucks were involved in something messed-up. Warlocks, maybe, I dunno.” She shrugs. 

Victoria’s mouth goes dry. She knew Nathan had been acting weird, but — but...well. To tell the truth, she’d had her worries. It’s not that nice to have them confirmed, but...

“The Magister won’t be happy to hear that,” she says quietly.

“Shoulda kept a closer eye on his kid then,” Chloe snorts. “I got no sympathy.”

Victoria looks down as Max steps closer to her. She doesn’t want to believe Chloe, but when they bring back Rachel, somehow she knows that Chloe’s story will be confirmed. Whatever happened here...his fault. Her fault. For not seeing it, not stopping it, not caring about anything but her own status. She squeezes her fist. Coming here was a mistake. It was better to pretend she could be a good person with Max than to remember all her failings here.

 

* * *

 

Chloe stomps her feet into the earth every couple of feet. “I know she’s close,” she explains when Max questions this. Finally, she puts out an arm and stops Kate in her tracks. “This way,” she says, pointing into an area of thinner, younger trees and a smaller carpet of vines. She stalks through the Wilds with purpose until they come across a small hill of dirt surrounded by mismatched stones — Chloe’s best attempt at a grave, apparently.

Chloe stands at the foot of the circle, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Kate comes up from behind her, smoothing her back.

“Take your time. You don’t have to look,” she whispers as the party gathers around, Frank taking a heavy tarp from Pompidou’s saddlebags and laying it out on the ground. Victoria digs in one of the witch’s bags herself, closing her eyes and repeating the incantation she’ll need over and over again in her mind as she feels for a small pouch of salt, a bag of deathnettle leaves, a black diamond.

Chloe raises her hand up, and the grave shifts, emitting Rachel’s corpse as though it were bobbing up to the surface of a lake. The stench is overbearing even as Victoria approaches with her components in hand, forcing herself to stare into Rachel’s rotted face. She can still see where her tooth fell out all those months ago, the hole visible in the blackened, infested flesh. 

She can tell when Chloe looks because she hears retching behind her, Kate’s quiet words of comfort. She pinches her nose to keep herself from having the same reaction as she sprinkles the salt over Rachel’s body, places the gem on her heart, then carefully shakes out the bag of deathnettle, carefully avoiding touching the leaves as they fall. Victoria kneels before the corpse of her once-rival, her once-lover, her once-abuser. She clasps her hands and asks Tria to preserve her body.

With a flash, the salt burns up, the leaves soaking into Rachel’s skin, the sound of chimes echoing as Rachel’s body reconstitutes itself, healing the holes in her flesh and pushing out the maggots that had been consuming her. She looks almost as she did the last time Victoria saw her, now, though most of her clothes have been eaten away and her skin is pale as bone. Victoria stands and turns to see Chloe kneeling on the ground, face in her hands, sobbing softly as Max and Kate stay by her side. Not Victoria’s job. Not right now. They aren’t friends, and Victoria’s here for a purpose.

She and Frank look to each other and nod. Victoria takes the legs, Frank grabbing it under the arms. She’s not very heavy. They place her in the center of the tarp and wrap it around her, tying it down with rope silently. Tears run down Frank’s pale face, but he does his work. They tie Rachel to Pompidou’s back, and then Frank slumps against his dragon, burying his face in scales.

Chloe stands up and wipes her eyes. “Let’s take her out of here,” she mutters. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

* * *

 

When they make camp that night, Victoria’s on first watch. All she’s really watching in the light of the dying fire is the body bag on Pompidou’s back, slowly shifting as he breathes. 

It’s hard to believe she’s really dead. After everything she did, everything she was, it seems crazy to think that Victoria really did outlive her. That she beat her, in some sick way, by escaping Arcadia and her blackmail and her exploitation. Victoria doesn’t miss her. Not with Max waiting for her in the tent. 

But someone does. Chloe emerges from Kate’s tent across from Victoria, the fire flaring up as she makes her appearance. She looks around for a moment, her gaze lingering on the same spot that Victoria’s did, before walking over and sitting down cautiously beside Victoria. 

“Hey, Vic,” she says, tilting her head forward, her knees rocking in front of her.

“Something wrong?” Victoria asks.

Chloe’s quiet for a moment. She idly shears off a section of the vines beneath them and throws it into the fire. “Thinking,” she replies at last.

“About what?”

“Did you see Rachel, that last night? Or Nathan?”

Victoria bites her lip. Chloe might hurt her if she knows the truth. But Victoria’s a better person now. An honest person. Hiding things made her sick and cruel. 

“I told Rachel I was done with her that morning,” Victoria begins. “And then...then I told Nathan that she was messing around with Jefferson. He got...he got really angry. Said he had to do something.”

Chloe says nothing. She runs a hand through her hair. 

“Shit,” she says at last. “I mean...”   


“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Victoria asks, a lump in her throat. “If I’d never told him—”

“Vic, he killed her. Not you. And if what you say about...what she did to you, if that’s true...” Chloe deflates. “I can’t even blame you.”

Chloe stares at the corpse. “I thought she was the only thing that mattered,” she says, as if to herself. “I gave up my family for her. Didn’t even really think about them til I met you and Max again. I’d do it again, if she was still alive. Is that fucked up?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Thought so.”   


“You kind of have a right to be fucked up,” Victoria admits. “Nobody made it out of Arcadia normal.”

Chloe chuffs. “Got a point there.” She draws circles in the empty space where she tore the vine, the dirt following her finger and creating little ridges. “Y’know, Vic...you’ve been a lot nicer to me than I really deserve. After what I did to you and all.”

Victoria feels the scar on her face unconsciously. Max told her her glamour’s down, but out here in the dirt and the muck, it seems surprisingly unconcerning to think about that. Nobody out here is hiding anything, or trying to impress each other. Maybe there’s something to the druid life after all.

“Shit, you saved my life,” Chloe continues. “I mean, I know you did it for Max, not me, but still.” She sighs. “Whatever Rachel says, when she comes back — I think you’re actually not too bad. I heard you and Frank talking, what you did that night. More than me. You helped people.”

Huh. This is kind of nice. Talking to Chloe like this. Compared to their first reunion in the estate, this feels right. “Thanks,” is all Victoria can really think to say. 

Chloe looks back at Rachel’s body. “I didn’t want to think she betrayed me. But I don’t think I really knew her.” Her voice strains. “I thought I did, but...”   


“I think she really did love you,” Victoria says. “In her way. Whatever it was. I...saw you two when I was spying on her. She acted different with you.”   


Chloe shrugs. “Maybe. Won’t know until I talk to her.” She stands up and stretches out. “I need to get some air. Away from...away from her. Be back soon. Tell Kate if she gets worried, ‘kay?”   


“All right,” Victoria says with a nod.

Chloe suddenly lifts up from the ground and vanishes above the canopy. Victoria watches, waiting for her to come down, but she’s gone a long while before Kate emerges and looks around.

“Have you seen Chloe?” she asks.

“She said she’ll be back soon,” Victoria tells her as she approaches, wringing her hands. “She needed time away from Rachel.”   


Kate bites her lip. “A-are you sure? Last time, s-she—”   


“I know,” Victoria says, trying to soften her tone. She doesn’t know Kate very well, but she seems sort of fragile. Like Max. She deserves a little consideration. “I don’t think she was lying.”

“I just worry sometimes,” Kate admits. “That I’m not—that I can’t really help her. That what’s happened to her is too much for me.”

Victoria considers for a moment as Kate nervously paces the campsite. “I thought I was lost too,” Victoria tells her after a while. “I wasn’t a good person. I was broken. But Max... She took care of me. She worked really hard at it,” Victoria adds with a chuckle.

Kate turns and seems to really look at Victoria for the first time. She opens her mouth, but doesn’t seem sure of her own words.

“Give her some time,” Victoria advises. “Max and I had a false start or two, too.” She tries to give Kate a reassuring smile but she’s not sure it’s working.

Luckily, Chloe chooses that moment to drop dramatically to the ground, barely slowing her fall an inch from the vines. Kate jumps back and Chloe shoots her a guilty puppy-eyed look.

“Sorry if I freaked you out. Just went up in the sky for a little bit. Cleared my head,” she explains, walking over. “Vic, we can take watch now, 'kay?”

Victoria nods and gets up. As she heads into her tent, she spares a look behind her and sees them with their hands linked, Chloe’s head on Kate’s shoulder. 

She starts to think maybe they all have a chance to recover after all.


	11. Odd Hours

Rachel’s presence hangs over the group.

Frank and Chloe are the ones who look at her most frequently, check her bindings, make sure she’s stable. Max and Kate catch each other looking at times, and they know they’re both wondering the same things, about how this one strange girl could upend the three lives around them. Victoria keeps her eyes on the path ahead, always.

At night, Kate holds Chloe close, lets her shiver in her arms. There are times that Kate thinks she shouldn’t be doing this. That Chloe’s never going to love Kate the way she loved Rachel, that Chloe’s just using her as a crutch. That Kate shouldn’t get her hopes up. It’s why she hesitates when she wants to kiss Chloe, thinking of how she left before, what’s she’s done, all for a dead girl.

But when Chloe came into her tent, that first night, Kate couldn’t find it in herself to say ‘no.’ She looked so hopeful. Like she really did want to make up with Kate. And it’s stupid, but lying here beside Chloe, on the last night before they return to the estate, still makes Kate feel warm. Hearing her breathe, watching her sleep, still fills Kate with little flutters. Kate knows she should seriously consider whether a future with Chloe is even possible, if she’s getting her hopes up for nothing, if Chloe can actually love her or if it’s just gratitude for the help she gave. But sometimes it’s nice just to think of her as a beautiful woman who came into her life at the worst possible moment, and might emerge better because of it.

Seeing the estate gates the next afternoon is something of a relief, despite everything. Kate’s had enough of the road for a lifetime, if she’s honest with herself, and it means soon everything will be over and she can really start to map out her future.

Elder Tasha greets them at the gates, a solemn air about her as she asks, “Do you have what the ritual requires?”

Kate nods. Tasha opens the gates for her and lets them into the druid encampment, heading for the central firepit. She stops and turns, looking very seriously at Kate.

“Max, Victoria, Chloe, get some rest. Frank, untie the body. Kate — stay here.”

“Wait, don’t I—” Chloe begins, but Tasha holds up one finger.

“I need to speak to my people alone. Take advantage of the Oracle’s hospitality,” she suggests. “The ritual requires moonlight. We will reconvene at midnight in the gardens.”

“Witching hour, right,” Chloe grumbles. “Hey, Kate...come and see me if you can, all right?”

“Of course,” Kate replies, lightly touching Chloe’s arm as Max and Victoria head inside, visibly relieved to be back in some kind of civilization.

Chloe huffs. “I guess a bath would be nice,” she concedes after a moment of wavering, staring at Frank as he carefully unties Rachel. She turns and heads up the stairs as Tasha turns her attention to Kate.

“Kate, I have an important task for you in this ritual,” Tasha tells her as soon as Chloe’s out of earshot. “And I don’t think Chloe or the others would really like to know what it is. But you are the best candidate for the task, and I trust your judgement.”

Kate feels a chill run through her. “Frank,” Tasha calls, “We will handle the preparations. Feel free to rest.”  
Frank looks like he’s about to argue, but a hard look from Tasha silences him, and he lays the body on the ground gingerly before leading Pompidou away. “Richard!” Tasha shouts, holding an arm above her head. “We could use a big strong druid to help us out.”

Kate’s father comes up to the Elder’s side quickly, a look of worry on his face. “Are you sure about this?” he asks Tasha, fingers twitching at his sides. “She’s only eighteen, and she’s not a trained witch.”

“It’s her,” Tasha confirms. “Take the body for us, please. Kate, follow me.”

Kate hears her father grunt as he hefts Rachel onto his shoulders. Like he carried her, when she was small. Tasha leads her into the estate itself, a dismal place to Kate, all bare white walls and austere angles. Then down a flight of stairs into a claustrophobic series of tunnels until they reach a lab, a foul rotten-meat smell reeking from it.

Victor stands beside a bathtub, staring into its contents, and as Kate gets closer she can tell that this is the source of the odor. “Ah. Good. I assume my daughter’s in one piece?” he says, turning to the druids.

“Yes, sir. She’s fine. She was very helpful,” Kate answers carefully. Victor gives her a curt nod.

“This is the potion required for the Rite, assuming that the instructions given to me by Elder Tasha are correct,” Victor explains, gesturing at the tub. “Generous helpings of deathnettle, a base of tree sap, a—”

“Yes, Oracle, I am sure you prepared it admirably. I do not doubt your ability,” Tasha says, cutting him off. “But the brew is not complete without a body — and an incantation. ‘A heart unhardened,’ so the song goes.” She glances at Kate. “Despite Victoria’s clear skill as a witch, I think in this case, she has too much personal investment, too much pain associated with this woman, for Tria to listen to her words. Should Tria reject the incantation, Rachel’s body will be destroyed, and our chance will be lost.”

Kate gulps. “But—Elder, I’m not...”

“You’re not a witch, not by training. But you care for Chloe, do you not?”

Kate feels a little unnerved by the question, under the eyes of the Elder, the Oracle, and her father all at once. “Y-yes,” she stammers.

“You want her to have peace. You want Rachel to come back and you’re willing to give up a lot to make that happen, including what Tria demands of both you and of Chloe.”

“Yes.” Kate looks down, blushing furiously now.

“It’s that humility, that pureheartedness, your willingness to accept any consequences of this, that will make Tria listen to you. _Book and candle is natural to those pure and simple_.” Tasha gives her a soft smile, a hand on her shoulder. “We druids do not waste words.”

“Yes, Elder.”

“No need to look so embarrassed!” Tasha says with a laugh. “This is an honor, Kate. I’m proud to have someone like you in my tribe. Now then, Oracle, would you mind helping Richard set the body into the brew? And where have you placed my book?”

“Just over there,” Victor grunts, pointing to a wheeled tray as Richard starts unwrapping the body.

A great tome rests on the tray beside an everburning candle, and Kate recognizes it right away; she knows it contains all the rites and rituals of the druid tribes prior to the rise of the organized Witchdom. It’s open to the Rite of Remembrance, covered in diagrams and recipes, but Kate zeroes in on the spot she needs right away, the incantation separate from the rest of the instructions. She moves the tray in front of the tub as Victor and Richard slowly let Rachel down into the mixture. It bubbles as it touches her flesh, burning it away as Kate watches.

“Kate, darling,” Tasha says gently, and Kate starts. Luckily the incantation is written phonetically, a mash of nonsense syllables that Kate has to clear her throat before attempting. She can’t misspeak. Not now. She can feel Tria’s presence around her, the sound of chimes again sounding in these underground spaces. The goddess of death hears her.

When she’s finished, there’s a sudden, loud crash, as though someone had smashed a gong. Victor and Richard jump back from the tub as white billows of steam erupt from it.

“Did it work?” Kate asks.

“Come and see,” Tasha offers, giving Kate her hand and leading her up to the tub’s edge. The steam clears, and all Kate can see in there is a pure black liquid, swirling with sparkling flecks, like they’ve poured the night sky in there. There’s no sign of the body.

“What do we do now?” Kate asks quietly.

“Chloe will need to consume the brew to strike the bargain. She will exist in a state of both life and death, stretching herself across the boundaries between worlds as a bridge for Rachel to cross over,” Tasha explains.

Kate wants to retch. Chloe has to — to _drink_ what’s left of the woman she loved? She shudders in disgust.

“You see why I didn’t think Chloe needed to know this particular aspect of the ritual, I hope,” Tasha says. “But dealing with Tria is rarely a pleasant thing. The remainder of the ritual will be cast at night, to ensure Chloe’s connection with Tria and allow her to access the nexus. Thank you, Kate.” She smiles. “You may keep Chloe company, if you wish. I’m sure the Oracle will be happy to feed you, _won’t he?_ ”

Victor purses his lips, but he nods regardless. “I have no intention of disrupting this...event,” he says.

“Thank you, Oracle Chase. You’ve been very gracious.”

Victor’s eyebrow twitches.

“Now, we do have a few things to discuss, you and I,” Tasha adds. “Richard, Kate, you may see yourselves out.”

Kate and Richard nod, then leave together, navigating the tunnels. As they reach the stairs, Richard asks, “So...the Elder told me what you did for Chloe.”

Kate swallows. “Dad—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her when you came home?”

Kate looks down as they climb up. “I was embarrassed, I guess,” she says when they reach the top and emerge into the estate proper. “I thought I messed it all up. That’s why she left.”

“You did wonderfully,” Richard tells her, turning to face her. “When Tasha told me — I was so proud that you’d taken someone in like that. That you tried to help, even though I’m sure it was hard and terrifying. The druids couldn’t ask for a better representative.”

“O-oh.” Kate’s chest feels a bit lighter. “T-thanks, Dad.”

“And you said you...cared for this girl, right?” Richard breaks eye contact, clearing his throat. “In...in what way?”

“Um.” _Well, in what way, Kate?_ she thinks to herself. Just a friend, now? Did the chance for something more die at the edge of Arcadia? Or...

“All right, all right, you’re beet-red, I think I understand,” Richard says with an awkward chuckle. “Just...um. Your mother might have some trouble with you being...with a non-druid. And a woman. But...Kate, I hope she treats you well. I worry about you.”

“Thanks,” Kate says lamely, “I, um, I don’t know if—”

“You’ll work it out,” her father assures her. “Go and see her. I’ll see you tonight.”

He gives her a big hug before he goes, and then Kate has to remember where Chloe’s room was from the last time she was in this estate for all of five minutes. She heads up the stairs to the second floor and knocks on the door that seems right.

“Whozat?” comes through from the other side.

“It’s Kate.”

The door swings open, revealing Chloe clad in a blue towel, her wet hair over her shoulders. She shifts from foot to foot as Kate steps in.

“Do you...mind if I stay with you for a while?” Kate asks. “Before the Rite?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Chloe bites her lip as Kate closes the door behind her. She looks so pretty and clean to Kate that she just wants to...why doesn’t she?

She steps closer and pulls Chloe in for a kiss. She deserves this. She’s going to go through so much tonight, she needs to know that Kate still wants her. No matter what happens.

It’s a long kiss, Chloe parting her mouth for Kate and letting her take control, putting her arms around her waist. When they finally break apart, Chloe breathes out a “Wow.”

“So, um,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking up hopefully at Kate. “You still want to—”

“After all this is over, yes,” Kate confirms.

“Okay.” Chloe lies back. “Okay.”

The wild grin stretching across her face is all Kate needs, for now. She sits with Chloe and talks about what they could do together, going to find Chloe’s parents, maybe having Chloe move into the Druidic Enclave as a resident sorcerer and guardian, or going to the Primal Core to serve the country. Whatever they do, they’ll do together.

Tonight will be hard. But Kate will not let it be the end.

She won’t lose track of Chloe ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next and final two-chapter update on Halloween. Seems appropriate, no?


	12. The Specter's Bargain

Chloe’s not sure when Kate fell asleep, but after dinner it seemed like the only thing to do while smarter people than Chloe set up the ritual and waited for midnight. Besides, Kate’s warm, and soft, and she makes such cute little noises when she’s sleeping, and curling around her and closing her eyes is better for Chloe than staying up and worrying about what’s going to happen when the Rite is finally performed. Kate’s a good distraction. A good person.

It’s strange. It should remind her of being with Rachel. Rachel was even a similar size, had the same honey-colored hair. And that’s the best love Chloe’s ever known, right? She should be missing Rachel now. She shouldn’t be reconsidering bringing Rachel back, shouldn’t be content right here and now.

So why is she?

Frank and Victoria’s voices speak in her mind. Whisper about betrayals and secrets and lies. Chloe’s not fighting it anymore. What good does it do, pretending she can ignore reality? Pretending she didn’t always fear that it was Rachel who was the problem?

She squeezes Kate tighter, rubbing her face into Kate’s neck. Kate’s not the problem. Kate’s never lied to her. She thinks of the promises that Kate’s spun, ideas to help _Chloe_ , not herself.

Just a project. Is that really what Chloe was?

A knock on the door jolts her out of her own thoughts, Kate grumbling in her arms. Chloe extracts herself carefully and pads over to the door, swinging it open to reveal Max.

“It’s time,” she says quietly, peering around to see Kate rousing herself from sleep. “We’re ready for you.”

Chloe nods, Kate coming up beside her and groggily shaking out her hair. “Where’s Vic?” Chloe asks.

“She helped set up the ritual. She’s in the gardens now. Come on.”

Kate takes Chloe’s hand as they follow Max through the hedge maze. When they reach the center, it seems almost crowded; Tasha, Victor, and Victoria are all there to greet them, standing in front of the altar. Frank stands near the back, leaning against the hedge, staring at the ground.

Tasha steps forward as soon as they enter the circle, handing Chloe a flask filled with what looks like black ink glittering with stars. “You will have to perform the final act of the ritual,” Tasha tells her.

“Do I really?” Chloe asks, biting her lip. “No offense, but I’m really bad at reading incantations.”

“None are required. You only need to drink this, and—”

“Take these,” Victoria interrupts, shoving a knife tied with a red ribbon into Chloe’s hand and holding out a golden hand-held mirror. “Shine the light of the moon onto the knife. Then cut your wrist. When you bleed, Tria will see you.”

“...yes, that,” Tasha says, quirking an eyebrow. “Theoretically, any of us could do it. But you are likely the one she wishes to see the most. She will be called to you more strongly than myself or even Victoria or Frank.”

“...right.” Chloe looks at the flask in her hand and gulps.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tasha says. “Everyone else — stand back from the altar.”

Kate gives Chloe one last hug before she goes, and Victoria hands her the mirror, linking hands with Max as she heads to the edge of the circle. Chloe spots Victor staring at them and wants to shove it in his face, but there’s something so much more important that’s about to happen.

She takes another look at the flask, closes her eyes, and opens her mouth. As she lifts it to her lips, she tastes something strangely sweet, like some kind of tangy honey. It’s thick and nearly chokes her on the way down. But more than that, she hears a hum.

As she drains the last of the flask, she opens her eyes, and sees two blue lines glowing beside her feet. She drops the flask and steps forward, and the lines follow her movement, disappearing behind her, appearing in front of her. As she approaches the altar, they separate, moving gently apart at a slight angle, the humming growing in pitch as she gets closer and closer.

When she’s right next to the altar, she can see more lines surrounding it, forming a pentagon that she just barely fits inside. They glow faintly through the grass, and inside that pentagon, there seems to be no ground, merely a reflection of the night sky above, swirling with turbulence, stars spinning in and out of galaxies. She looks around her, wanting to ask _Do you guys see this shit too?_ but she can’t see them anymore, only the glowing lines, all else is black silhouette around her save for the circular hole in the maze that shows the sky above, and the stone altar.

She raises Victoria’s mirror in one hand, her knife gripped in the other. When she catches the moon’s reflection, she puts her knife in front of the mirror, and it starts glowing bright white, nearly blinding. Chloe gently places the mirror on the altar, then raises her wrist above it.

The cut doesn’t hurt. What comes out of her isn’t blood, but the potion, the same substance, it has to be, only it’s got swirls of red in it as it forms a massive droplet and slowly drips off of her arm, viscous and sticky. As soon as it touches the altar, Chloe hears a bell.

The ley lines light up around her, forming a massive pentagram that stretches across the entire center circle of the garden, brighter than the sun, extending off into infinity, their light visible even above the hedges. The altar drops out of sight, into the spinning universe below, and Chloe is alone in this place, breathing heavily in silence.

A glowing hand reaches up out of the darkness. It grasps at nothing, braces itself on nothing, while sweat beads on Chloe’s neck. She steps back as Rachel crawls up through the earth, her naked form shimmering transparent blue, hair flying around her face in an unreal wind. Her muscles strain as she lifts herself up like she’s climbing out of a deep mud pit.

When Rachel finally opens her eyes, they’re bright spots of gold light. Chloe’s staring openmouthed at her.

Rachel gives her a warm smile. Her teeth shine like diamonds.

“Hi, Chloe.”

That’s all she says.

Chloe’s ready to smack her.

“That’s it?!” Chloe asks, clenching her fists at her sides. “Rachel—”

“I know, I know. Oh, Chloe.” Rachel sighs, running a hand through her hair. “You really are wonderful, you know that? So determined.”

Chloe shivers. Gods, it’s nice to hear her voice again, saying such nice things. It’s like the night she got her powers all over again. But she knows more now. She has to ask.

“Rachel, I need to know something. I didn’t bring you back just to see you again.”

Rachel frowns. “I know you didn’t, but Chloe, I need to tell you—”

“What killed Arcadia?”

Rachel stops speaking, her eyes flickering in the dark. There’s a horrible silence as Chloe stares at the woman she loved.

“I did.”

Chills run up and down Chloe’s entire body, her stomach dropping.

“I knew what I was doing,” Rachel says, crossing her arms and narrowing her brow. “Everyone pushed me. Ever since I heard the gods speak to me, they told me I had to be great. So I was. I created spells no one else could. I did it faster than anyone. I _deserved_ to live, to come out on top, to go to Citadel and change the world. With you,” she adds softly.

“What were you _doing?_ ” Chloe asks, a lump in her throat.

“Mark Jefferson was a warlock. I used his abilities to give me the power to craft my spells.” Rache brushes hair behind her ear. “For you.”

Chloe’s silent for a moment, her eyes wide, teeth clenched. “And you never fucking told me?” she asks, at last. “Holy fucking shit, Rachel, you were screwing around with a _warlock_ to get what you needed? Are you totally insane?”

“I had to do it!” Rachel insists. “He was the only one who could get me — get us — what we needed! To get out, to be somebody!”

“And...” Chloe swallows the lump and powers on. She needs to know. “What about Frank and Victoria, huh? What the hell did you do to them?”

“Frank got me components. Victoria got me knowledge. I did what I had to do.”

“You had to kill Arcadia?! All those innocent fucking people, and you just—”

“You hated that town!” Rachel interrupts. “You talked about wanting to burn it down!”

“I was just pissed off! I didn’t fucking mean it! Why the hell would you do that? Hell, _how?_ ” Chloe’s teeth grind. “Rachel, I can’t just blow this off!”

“It deserved to die. For what it did to me, to so many people. They just let Mark live in their midst. People had to know. I knew. You knew, even, you just didn’t know it,” Rachel said, pointing a spectral finger at her. “You said his aura was sick.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So other sorcerers must’ve known too, they were trained, and they did nothing,” Rachel hisses. “I was trying to be part of the Witchdom’s elite, so I did what they do. I fought my way to the top with every resource I could manage. If anyone deserved to win the game, it was me. But I knew the system was broken. That what I was doing was dangerous.” She takes in a deep breath, and her face is so twisted that she doesn’t resemble the Rachel that Chloe knew. “So if I couldn’t win, I’d burn it all down. I set a trap, to be triggered on my death, and Nathan sprang it. He was jealous of me. He wanted to be Jefferson’s apprentice for the same reasons I took advantage of him.”

Chloe takes another step back, her foot touching the barrier line of the pentagon, and Rachel reaches out a hand. “Don’t!” she cries, her orange eyes widening.

“What?” Chloe asks.

“If you step out of that you can’t bring me back, and Chloe, I have...I have something to say to you. Please. Listen to me. Just for a minute.”

Chloe eyes her suspiciously, but she steps back into the pentagon. “I—I don’t know what the hell you think you can say to make up for this.” She’s shaking, now, her eyes hurt, but she can’t fall to pieces.

“Chloe, we can still be together. I always wanted that with you, no matter what else I was doing. I thought you were amazing. That’s why I worked so hard to make that spell for you, why I risked so much.” Rachel’s posture relaxes, her face open and pleading. “I’ve watched you since I died. You’re amazing. You’ve done so much.”

Chloe stiffens. These are lies. Rachel’s a fucking _liar._ She wants something, she always wants something, and Chloe’s tired of being her dupe. She gave so much to Rachel. Everything, if she’s honest. And Rachel had all these plans behind her back the whole time, all these people she was fucking around with, when Chloe never even _wanted_ these powers, she just wanted Rachel, only Rachel.

But Rachel would never be satisfied with just Chloe, would she?

“I haven’t done shit,” Chloe spits. “I didn’t even defend the town you fucking torched.”

“You shouldn’t have!” Rachel argues. “This — this whole system, this entire Witchdom — it’s sick. Can’t you see that? We have books full of awful things that we tell the gods to do to our fellow man. We constantly give up our souls to the gods in order to advance ourselves in this pointless tiered system. Look at Victor! He’d rather let you die to serve his own self-interest than help figure out the mystery of what could end his entire civilization.” Rachel pauses for a moment, looking like she wants to step closer to Chloe, but she can’t seem to budge from her position. “Chloe, we need to start over.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chloe asks, brows furrowed.

“The spell I cast to destroy the wards — it drew Vrist’s attention to my soul. She’s kept me locked in the ley lines, holding me steady, keeping me away from Tria until you cast your ritual. The goddess of vengeance wants a new avatar. She’s chosen me. And Chloe...” She reaches her hand out, splaying her fingers like she expects Chloe to intertwine her own with them. “You and I can take vengeance on the world, for doing what it did to us. To so many people. We can tear down this Witchdom together — with your power and mine combined. All I need is a body.”

Chloe balks. Is she _serious?_

“Chloe...” Rachel begs. “We can be together. We really can.”

Chloe remembers when that meant the world to her. When all she ever wanted was to be together with Rachel, alone and away from her whole life.

She thinks of Joyce, somewhere in a far-off city, still wondering where her daughter is.

She thinks of Max, standing in this garden, watching this ritual, who tried so hard to reach her and keep her tethered.

She thinks of Kate, the woman who’d taken a stranger into her life and saved her, and loved her.

She even thinks of Victoria, who regrets so much, who’s done so much harm, who’s done so much to try and make up for it.

And then she looks at Rachel. Who shows no regret for the damage she’s done, who wants to do more, who lied to her and manipulated her and so many others into her twisted view of the world. Who’s trying to use Chloe’s pain to her own advantage, giving what she thinks is an offer Chloe can’t refuse.

“Take my hand,” Rachel asks.

Chloe looks away. She sighs.

She did love this woman, once.

“Go to sleep, Rachel,” Chloe says, turning away. “This is over.”

“Chloe?”

Chloe takes a step over the line. The darkness around her wavers, the thin forms of her audience forming in her vision.

“Chloe! Chloe, please, don’t leave me here!”

Chloe wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Chloe, I love you, I always did, I never lied about that, please...”

“Goodbye, Rachel,” Chloe says as she takes her final step.

She just barely hears an “I’m sorry,” before the ley lines go dark and Chloe falls to her knees, hunching over in pain as her stomach clenches. She throws up the potion, spewing out a foul-smelling puddle of black ooze. It burns her throat the way her tears burn her eyes, but she needs to do it, she can’t stop it, she can’t do anything.

It’s over. It’s all over.

As she lifts her head, straining to see beyond black spots in her vision, all she hears is Kate’s voice.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

 

* * *

 

She awakens to the sun rising through the guestroom window, blinking her eyes groggily at the blurry forms surrounding her. Kate’s face is the first one that comes into focus, sitting right beside the bed in a chair, her hand holding Chloe’s on Chloe’s chest.

“Chloe? Are you awake?” Kate asks softly, her fingers flexing in Chloe’s.

Chloe’s throat is dry, and her body feels heavy. Unresponsive. She tries to open her mouth and starts coughing, her eyes squeezing closed of their own accord. She feels stretched and thin.

Kate hugs her anyway. As the coughing subsides, Chloe’s able to look over Kate’s shoulder, around the room. Max and Victoria are there, too, but they’re clearly asleep in their chairs. Victor, however, is standing upright, leaning against the dresser, tapping his foot incessantly, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

“Was it all worth it?” he asks, a cruel twist in his mouth. “Did you actually learn anything?”

“Give her a minute,” Kate snaps. “She’s still recovering.”

“Hmph.” Victor curls his nose as Max and Victoria start stirring.

“Chloe? Chloe, do you know what happened to you?” Kate asks, pulling back for a moment.

Chloe shrugs.

“The Elder said you broke the ritual early. You were supposed to talk until she returned to the afterlife on her own. Why did you...” Kate trails off, rubbing her thumb over Chloe’s palm. “Your soul had to fight to return fully to your body after existing in that liminal space. That was — that was really dangerous.”

“S-She wasn’t going to go back on her own,” Chloe manages, coughing at the end of the sentence.

“I told you it was a bad idea at the start,” Victor mutters.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chloe replies tiredly. “Let me fuckin’ talk.”

Kate suppresses a smile while Victor represses...something, for sure. Chloe lays her head back on the pillow and sighs.

“Is she awake?” Max asks. Kate nods.

“What did Rachel say?” Victoria adds.

Chloe fights back through foggy, unreal memories, closing her eyes. “Rachel killed Arcadia,” she says at last.

From there, she explains everything she can, everything she knows; the goddess of vengeance taking hold of Rachel and wanting her as her avatar, the deal Rachel offered, the incredible anger and rage Rachel had in her heart for the Witchdom and the system she had worked so hard to rise to the top of. Victor stays quiet, surprisingly enough. When Chloe’s run out of things to say, he stands up straight and adjusts his collar.

“I’ll report this to the Magister.” He heads for the door. He holds it open for a moment, then looks over at Chloe. “You showed a moral fortitude I didn’t expect,” he adds. “Perhaps you have a future yet.” He casts a meaningful glance at Max and Victoria as well before he leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

“So what do we do now?” Max asks.

“Rachel’s spell still exists, but no one knows it. The Witchdom is safe,” Victoria replies, sinking a little with visible relief. “It died with her.”

Those words don’t hurt Chloe as much as they should.

“She had a point, though. About the Witchdom being too selfish, too hard on people,” Kate says. “We’ve been saying that for years. Maybe now someone will listen to the druids. Nathan and Rachel...what they did because of the pressure...” Kate pauses, gathering her breath.

“I know how that feels,” Victoria admits.

“None of you answered my question,” Max points out. “What do we do now?”

“Try to live, I guess,” Chloe replies with a shrug. “Do our best.”

“That’s not much of a plan, Chloe.”

“I like it,” Kate says, leaning forward and kissing Chloe’s cheek. “Let’s see where life takes us.”


	13. Climbing Higher Now

“We’re late,” Victoria says as she and Max half-run, half-walk through the dirt streets of the Druidic Enclave. “I _told_ you, you could’ve saved the trance for later—”

“When is Chloe ever on time for anything anyway? We’ll be fine, Victoria, you’ll see,” Max replies, breathing a sigh of relief when Fortan’s Hall comes into view.

“I don’t know where they even found the _time,_ ” Victoria groans. “Ever since we started this whole ward-expansion project every single witch I know has been swamped, and Chloe’s leading the damned charge.”

Max smiles. “Chloe always makes time for Kate. Come on, you know that.”

“I know, it’s disgusting.” Victoria rolls her eyes.

“Be polite, Tori,” Max teases, stopping her just in front of the door.

“I _said_ you can’t call me that in public,” Victoria mutters, but her cheeks have that distinct flush of pink again.

Max smirks. “Sure.” She leans up and kisses Victoria’s cheek, right over her scar. “Calm down. We probably have enough time to get to our seats, at least. And like I said, if Chloe gives us any crap, I can remind her of that time she was literally a week late to our Magister’s Day party.”

Victoria chuckles. “You have a point.” She links arms with Max, waiting for her to take the lead.

Max pushes open the door and heads through the empty lobby, noting that the doors to the central chamber are still open and sighing with relief. As she approaches, she can see how stuffed it is; the left side filled with sorcerers, their marks displayed proudly, Core dress uniforms neatly in place. The right side looks somewhat shabby in comparison, but that’s druids for you. Max looks for Kate’s mother, and isn’t too surprised to see Richard sitting alone at the front.

She leads Victoria through the rows of benches, finding an open spot next to Joyce on the left side. Max isn’t surprised to see Joyce alone here. While Chloe’s no longer actively hostile to David, she still prefers not to see him because of all the memories he brings up. Max had heard enough from Chloe not to blame her for it.

As they slide in, Joyce leans over and whispers, “I thought you two weren’t gonna show, and then I’d have to go down to that fancy house of yours and beat your skinny asses.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” Max tells her.

“I know you wouldn’t. Now hush. They’re starting.”

The low drone of a massive woodwind instrument starts to fill the room as Elder Tasha, a bit unsteady on her feet these days, makes her way to the central altar, giving a wink to Max and Victoria as she passes by. As the ‘music’ starts to gain in volume, Max satisfies herself with watching Victoria’s face curl up into that familiar expression that just reads _fucking druids_ to anyone in the know. Once Tasha’s in position behind the altar, the drone changes to a slightly higher pitch, and Max turns her head to see Chloe appear at the back of the room. She’s wearing her fancy Primal Guardian uniform, all black and gold, the name of the Progenitor emblazoned on her armband, a number of medals dotting her chest. Her blue hair’s cut short now, giving her a nearly professional appearance, which is always kind of strange to Max. But she supposes that in their finery, she and Victoria look much like the image of a proper Oracle and Covenmaster, themselves. How bizarre.

When Kate comes out, she looks much like she always does. She’s done her hair up, but she’s still in the plain brown robes of the druids; still barefoot, the soft feather cloak on her shoulders the only concession to ceremony.

Chloe beams as soon as she sees Kate, and Kate’s smile looks like it’s breaking out of her face. Max can see the tears shining from here, and her own eyes water a bit as well. This has been too long coming.

Chloe and Kate link their arms and slowly make their way down the aisle. Chloe catches Max’s eye just before she hits the altar, and uses her free hand to point at Kate and mouth “Fuck yeah!” Max has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling, although it’d surely be lost in the drone anyway.

Tasha holds up her hands and the sound stops. “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of two of the most unique souls I’ve had the pleasure to meet in my lifetime,” she says, a broad smile on her face. “The first of her position, Guardian of the Primal Core, Chloe Elizabeth Price.”

The soldiers behind Max erupt in cheering, and Tasha gives them a good-natured minute or two to calm down.

“And of course, the pride of my tribe, Ambassador of the Druidic Delegation, Kate Beverly Marsh.”

If anything, the druids cheer _louder._ Kate wipes her eyes, and Max sees Chloe intertwine their fingers and squeeze, her bicep flexing rather impressively.

“The time has come to officially integrate Chloe into the Marsh family clan by mingling her blood with Kate’s, under the gaze of Fortan, god of protection, patron of the Druidic peoples and savior of humanity.” Tasha lowers her gaze and looks directly at Chloe. “Chloe. Are you willing to give your blood to Fortan, to join the ancient covenant that has sustained our people for centuries after the Fall?”

“I am,” Chloe says, without missing a beat.

“Kate, are you prepared to initiate Chloe into the covenant, entangling your own life with hers?”

Kate’s not very good at projecting her voice. All Max can hear is a little choking, a little sniffling.

“Speak up, my dear,” Tasha urges gently.

Kate looks down and nods. She takes a deep breath, then says, “I am,” her voice wet but at least audible.

“Give me your hands.”

Kate and Chloe each lay a hand on the altar, the Elder producing a ceremonial knife from her robes. She slashes once across each palm. “Join your hands,” Tasha instructs, “and kiss.”

Chloe’s smile says _No problem_ and the two of them intertwine their fingers, blood running down their wrists. Chloe uses her free hand to circle Kate’s waist and bring them together, their kiss deep and passionate.

There’s a bright blue flash where their hands meet, and Chloe jumps as her veins light up for a brief second. “Whoah,” she says with a shiver.

“By the power of Kate’s blood, your lives are joined,” Tasha declares. “Chloe, you are now a part of the Druidic Covenant. You and any children born of you will have the powers granted to our people by Fortan. When you die, so shall Kate; the threads that tie you to this world are entwined. And, of course,” she adds with a smile, “You are now wives, in the tradition of our people.”

That seems to be the queue for the druids to start shouting, and after a moment, the soldiers join in just as loudly, Joyce smiling broadly, even Victoria looking amused as Chloe brings Kate close again and kisses her fiercely.

“Now, if you’ll follow me, I believe there is an _extravagant_ party behind the hall,” Tasha announces, walking around the couple and leading each row out. Max catches a glance of Chloe wiping Kate’s tears away, her touch so soft and gentle. Max holds Victoria’s hand, thinking of the day their lives will be entwined, too.

 

* * *

 

It is quite a party. The grounds are covered in small tents above tables serving every kind of druidic delicacy that Max never even knew existed, and Frank’s showing off his dragon’s latest tricks in the center, just in front of the dance circle surrounding a great bonfire. As the light fades from the sky, Max leans against a table, watching the world go by with a hazy smile on her face. Whatever alcohol these people drink, it is _strong._ Max is taking it slow.

She’s mainly watching Victoria as she mingles, setting up appointments for all sorts of rare spells that everyone seems to remember they need as soon as they see her. But as Max observes, she spots a familiar tall form cross the grounds, his blond hair matching Victoria’s. She grimaces, because this never really goes that well.

Victor’s only barely approached Victoria before she turns her head away in disgust, holding up a hand. Victor stands there for a few more moments before slumping his shoulders. He looks around the party and lingers once he sees Max.

Oh, no. Now he’s coming towards her. Max braces herself.

“Maxine,” he says, and damn it all Max is _sick_ of this.

“It’s Max,” she says curtly.

He pauses. “I’m—”

“It’s been Max for a really long time, Victor,” Max sighs.

“Oh.” He looks nonplussed. “I never realized it bothered you.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of your problem all around, actually,” Max says, checking behind her. Good. There is a free glass of wine. She needs that right now.

As she sips, Victor starts with, “I know we didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“Mhmm, I remember,” Max says. “I remember you kicking me out a day before my apprenticeship was officially up and Victoria coming right with me. What did I call you? It was good.”

“Stuck so far up Fate’s ass I could see out of her mouth, as I recall,” Victor says, a surprising smirk coming to his face.

“That was it! Chloe told me to say that.”

“I had a feeling she was involved.”

“And you haven’t talked to me since then,” Max adds. “So what’s this? What are you even doing here, I thought you hated Chloe?”

“This is the most important political marriage in the past ten years, if not the century. I’d be a fool not to make an appearance,” Victor says, his posture stiffening. “But I also came to see Victoria.”

“Again.”

Victor runs a hand through his hair. “Yes. Again. And I suppose refusing to speak to me is better than creating a public incident. But this...event made me realize that I may not be invited to my own daughter’s wedding. And that...”

“Doesn’t feel good, huh?”

“...no. It doesn’t. And...” Victor looks constipated, like saying this is physically difficult. “I am actually incredibly proud. Of both of you.”

“Really?” Max asks, raising her eyebrows.

“You’ve become a truly impressive Oracle, even with your tumultuous relationship with Fate. And I am complimented on Victoria’s prowess almost every day, it seems. Not only have you two done well after leaving my care, you’ve thrived. I respect you both. And while your...relationship may have been a source of tension in the past, I can see the good it’s done for my daughter.” He rubs his temple. “I am tired of being your enemy. We don’t have to be friends, but I could stand to be her father again — and your father-in-law, someday.”

Max mulls it over in her mind. “I’ll tell her what you said,” she says after a long silence. “But she’s the one who will decide if she’ll forgive you. Not me.”

“It’s more than I’ve had in five years,” Victor admits. He turns his head. “Ah. I see someone else wants to speak to you.”

“The fuck are you doing here, man?” Chloe snorts as she pushes past him. “I’m gonna talk to Tasha about this. We need better security.”

“Glad to see you again as well, Guardian,” Victor replies.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I gotta talk to Max. Go do something pretentious.”

“Happily.”

Chloe looks quizzically at him as he leaves. “When did he grow a sense of humor?” she asks, looking over at Max.

Max shrugs. “Who knows?”

Chloe slumps down against the table, letting out an “Oof.”

“Primal Guardian Chloe Price-Marsh,” she says, staring into the sky.

“That’s you,” Max replies, elbowing her.

“That’s me.” Chloe looks down at her. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Chloe.”

Chloe smiles. “I know.” She lets out a long sigh. “Hell of a road getting here, right?”

“It’s been good, though. Not all good, but...”

“I mean the start was total ass, be real, Max.”

Max chuckles, looking down into her wine, swirling the glass in her hands. She thinks. A little too hard.

“Do you still think about Rachel?” she asks.

“Just every time I look in a mirror,” Chloe answers, running a hand through her blue hair. “Sometimes, when the stiffs are getting too stiff-y, and the Core’s up my ass about protocol, and some shaper is getting creative with the curses, I wish I’d taken that deal. But...” She stares across the yard, and when Max follows her gaze, she sees Kate speaking with her father and Tasha, smiling like the whole world belongs to her. “I see Kate, and — well, this sounds fucked-up, but I’m glad Rachel’s gone. I hope she’s...” Chloe sniffs. “I hope she’s at peace, or whatever. Not all angry or stressed.”

Max leans into Chloe’s side, waiting for her breath to calm. Talking about Rachel isn’t easy, but it’s always good for Chloe. That’s what Max has learned over the years. Sometimes a girl still needs her best friend.

“Anyway,” Chloe says after a moment of contentment. “Now you and Vic gotta get hitched so I can ruin it.”

“I’m working up to it,” Max says with a smile.

Chloe and Kate catch each other’s eye. Kate winks, and Chloe suddenly stiffens up. “Uh,” she chuckles nervously, “I think it’s time for me and Kate to go home. Have a good time, all right?”

“I plan to,” she says. “You’ll hear all about it tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“I’d better.” Chloe gives her a big hug before she leaves. Almost as soon as she’s gone, Victoria rushes over, her cheeks flushed but eyes animated.

“I just made a deal to help a girl out with a transition spell! I’ve been wanting to cast that for ages,” she gushes, embracing Max a bit clumsily. “And also Kate and Chloe are cute as hell,” she mumbles in Max’s ear. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“You were invited,” Max points out.

“I was, wasn’t I?” Victoria says, pulling back and grinning. “Look at me go, all social and stuff.”

“You’re good at it.” Max kisses her. She reaches into her pocket, feeling the metal. “So, Victoria, I’ve got something to ask you...”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I am content to be moving on._
> 
> All titles taken from the band Splashdown's body of work. This series would not exist without "A Charming Spell," its lyrics forming the basics of the Specter's Bargain.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Whether you've been here from the start, found it somewhere in the middle, or joined me at this final story, I am so glad that I have an audience for this. This was a trip and a half to write, a long journey with a lot of twists and turns I didn't expect myself. A lot of hard work. I'm so grateful to everyone who's left a comment or a kudos on Book and Candle. 
> 
> Happy Halloween.


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